


Warriors: Rewritten — The Prophecies Begin

by Silver_Snek



Series: Silverleopard’s Warriors Rewritten [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Firestar (Warriors), Canon-Typical Violence, Cats, F/F, F/M, Female Firestar (Warriors), Fix it AU, Fuck Canon, M/M, Multi, Other, Ravenpaw is brave, RiverClan (Warriors), ShadowClan (Warriors), ThunderClan (Warriors), Warrior Cats, Warriors Rewritten, WindClan (Warriors), but for the better, so much chaos, this is a rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 38
Words: 94,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23581297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Snek/pseuds/Silver_Snek
Summary: Fire alone can save our Clan…For generations, four Clans of wild cats have shared the forest according to the laws laid down by their warrior ancestors. But the ThunderClan cats are in grave danger, and their enemies grow stronger every day. Noble warriors are dying-- and some deaths are more mysterious than others.In the midst of this turmoil appears an ordinary house cat named Bella… who may turn out to be the bravest warrior of them all.————UPDATES TUESDAYS, FRIDAYS, AND SUNDAYS.Into the Wild: Started 4/10/2020 - Finished 4/21/2020Fire and Ice: Started 4/24/2020 - Finished 5/5/2020Forest of Secrets: Started 5/8/2020 - Finished 5/17/2020Rising Storm: Started 5/24/2020 - Finished 5/31/2020A Dangerous Path: Started 6/2/20 - Finished 6/9/20
Relationships: Firestar/Ravenpaw (Warriors), Graystripe/Silverstream (Warriors), Princess/Longtail (Warriors), Sandstorm/Hattie (Warriors)
Series: Silverleopard’s Warriors Rewritten [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697464
Comments: 117
Kudos: 136





	1. Into the Wild: Allegiances

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lads. I’m Silverleopard86, and I decided that the Warriors series kind of sucked. So I’m rewriting it.  
> As of the time I write this (April 10, 2020) I have finished Into the Wild, and haven’t yet started Fire and Ice. The current post rate is twice a week on Fridays and Tuesdays, but it is subject to change. If I have to do any edits of previous chapters, I will say so in the end notes.  
> For now, though, enjoy my little pet project.

**THUNDERCLAN**

_LEADER_

Bluestar - Blue-gray molly, tinged with silver around her muzzle.

_DEPUTY_

Redtail - small tortoiseshell tom with a distinctive ginger tail APPRENTICE, DUSTPAW

_MEDICINE CAT(S)_

Spottedleaf - beautiful dark tortoiseshell molly with a distinctive dappled coat 

_WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Lionheart - magnificent golden tabby tom with thick fur like a lion’s mane APPRENTICE, GRAYPAW

Tigerclaw - big dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws APPRENTICE, RAVENPAW

Whitestorm - big white tom APPRENTICE, SANDPAW

Darkstripe - sleek black-and-gray tabby tom

Longtail - pale tabby tom with dark black stripes

Runningwind - swift tabby tom 

Willowpelt - very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes

Mousefur - small dusky brown she-cat

 _APPRENTICES_ (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

Dustpaw - dark brown tabby tom

Graypaw - long-furred gray tom with a dark gray stripe along his spine

Ravenpaw - small, skinny black-furred tom with a tiny white dash on his chest and white-tipped tail, violet eyes

Sandpaw - pale ginger she-cat

 _QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Frostfur - beautiful white coat and blue eyes

Brindleface - pretty tabby

Goldenflower - pale ginger coat

Speckletail - pale tabby, the oldest queen

 _ELDERS_ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Halftail - big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing

Smallear - gray tom with very small ears

Patchpelt - small black-and-white tom

One-eye - pale gray molly, the oldest cat in Thunderclan. Virtually blind and deaf

Dappletail - once-pretty tortoiseshell molly with a lovely dappled coat

**SHADOWCLAN**

_LEADER_

Brokenstar - long-furred dark brown tabby with a broken tail

_DEPUTY_

Blackfoot - large white tom with black paws

_MEDICINE CAT(S)_

Runningnose - small gray-and-white tom

 _WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Stumpytail - brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, BROWNPAW

Boulder - silver tabby tom APPRENTICE, WETPAW

Clawface - battle-scarred brown tom APPRENTICE, LITTLEPAW

Nightpelt - black tom

 _QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Dawncloud - small tabby

Brightflower - black-and-white molly

 _ELDERS_ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Ashfur - thin gray tom

**WINDCLAN**

_LEADER_

Tallstar - black-and-white tom with a very long tail

**RIVERCLAN**

_LEADER_

Crookedstar - huge light-colored tabby with a twisted jaw

_DEPUTY_

Oakheart - reddish brown tom

**CATS OUTSIDE CLANS**

Yellowfang - old dark gray she-cat with a broad, flat face

Smudge - plump and friendly black-and-white kittypet

Barley - black-and-white tom who lives on a farm close to the forest

Princess - light brown tabby she-cat with green eyes

Belladonna - tiny black she-cat with amber eyes


	2. Into the Wild: Prologue

A quarter-moon glowed on smooth granite boulders, turning them silver. The silence was broken only by the ripple of water from the swift black river and the whisper of trees in the forest beyond. 

There was a stirring in the shadows, and from all around, lithe shapes crept over the moon-bathed rocks. Unsheathed claws glinted in the dim light. Wary eyes flashed like dying tongues of flame. And then, as if upon a wordless signal, the creatures leapt at each other, and the rocks became alive with wrestling, screeching cats.

At the center of the hurricane of fur and claws, a massive dark tabby pinned a bracken-furred tom to the ground, lifting his head in triumph. “Oakheart!” he growled. “How  _ dare _ you hunt in our territory? The Sunningrocks belong to  _ ThunderClan _ !”

“After tonight,  _ Tigerclaw _ ,” the bracken tom spat the name like it was venom, “this will be just another RiverClan hunting ground!”

A warning yowl came from the shore, shrill and panicked. “More RiverClan cats crossing the river!”

Tigerclaw turned to see sleek, wet bodies sliding out of the dark water below the rocks. The drenched RiverClan warriors bounded up the shore, teeth flashing, and hurled themselves into the battle, not bothering to pause and shake the water from their fur.

The dark tabby glared down at Oakheart, his lips drawing back to expose his fangs in a snarl. “You may swim like otters, but you and your warriors have no place in our forest!”

A desperate scream rose above the clamor, and Tigerclaw’s eyes flicked upwards. A ThunderClan molly was pinned beneath a wiry RiverClan tom. He lunged for her throat, jaws still dripping from the river-water--

\-- Tigerclaw leapt away from Oakheart, slamming his broad shoulder into the enemy warrior, who screeched in shock as he went sprawling. “Run, Mousefur!”

His long claws split a deep gash along the tom’s flank, before Tigerclaw spat in rage as the warrior managed to cut across his nose, the stinging pain briefly distracting him as blood welled up and blocked his vision. Regardless, he sprang forward, sinking his teeth into the RiverClan tom’s hind leg. The warrior squealed, tearing away and running. 

“Tigerclaw!” The yowl came from a warrior with a tail as red as fox fur. “This is useless! There are too many of them!”

“ThunderClan will  _ never _ be beaten!” The massive warrior snarled back, leaping to his deputy’s side. “This is  _ our _ territory, Redtail!” Blood wept from his black muzzle, and he violently shook his head, scattering the scarlet drops. 

“ThunderClan will honor your courage,” Redtail panted, slashing at a passing RiverClan she-cat, “but we cannot afford to lose any more of our warriors. Bluestar wouldn’t want this!”

“But--”

“We can avenge this defeat!” Redtail met Tigerclaw’s gaze steadily, then raised his ginger tail and opened his mouth to yowl. “ThunderClan, retreat!”

Almost in unison, the ThunderClan warriors broke away from the battle, darting past others with practiced speed and to Redtail’s side. For a heartbeat, the RiverClan cats looked confused. Was the battle so easily won?

A jubilant yowl came from Oakheart first, and it was quickly taken up by his Clanmates. Tigerclaw snarled as his own retreated into the trees, and he was the last to follow. He hesitated at the edge of the forest, eyes narrowed to furious slits. Eventually, he leapt after his Clan into the silent forest.

Just outside of a lichen-covered den, an old gray she-cat sat alone, staring up at the clear night sky. All around her in the shadows, she could heart pelts rustling and the soft breathing of sleeping cats.

A small tortoiseshell she-cat emerged from a darkened corner, her pawsteps quick and soundless. The gray molly dipped her head in greeting.

“How is Mousefur?”

“Her wounds are deep, Bluestar,” answered the tortoiseshell, settling herself on the night-cool grass. “But she is young and strong; she will survive this.”

“And the others?”

“The same.”

Bluestar sighed, the simple breath speaking volumes of her exhaustion and relief intermingling. “We are lucky that none of our warriors are joining StarClan tonight. You are a gifted medicine cat, Spottedleaf.” Her blue eyes shifted upwards, gazing to the stars high above. “I am troubled by tonight’s defeat. ThunderClan hasn’t been beaten in our own territory since I became leader… These are difficult times for our Clan. Newleaf is late, and so few kits… ThunderClan needs more warriors.”

“The year is only just beginning,” Spottedleaf mewed, her tail flicking as she pointed the fact out to her leader. “There will be more kits come greenleaf.”

Bluestar rolled her broad shoulders, strong despite her age. “Perhaps you’re right, but training apprentices takes time. We need warriors  _ now _ .”

Spottedleaf shook her head, amused at the almost petulant tone, before gazing up at the stars with Bluestar. “Are you asking StarClan for answers?”

The leader nodded. “At times like this, we need the words of our ancestors to guide us… has StarClan spoken to you?”

“Not for some moons,” she mewed regretfully,

Their eyes searched the sky together, when without warning a star blazed over the treetops, its journey heedless of obstacles as it rocketed through the sky. Spottedleaf’s tail twitched as the fur along her spine bristled. Bluestar’s ears pricked, but she remained silent as the medicine cat continued to look upward.

After many heartbeats, she blinked and lowered her head, looking to Bluestar. “It was an omen from StarClan.” Her green eyes were distant. “Fire alone can save our Clan.”

“Fire?” Bluestar echoed. “But fire is feared by all the Clans! How could it save us?”

Spottedleaf shook her head, seeming to come back to herself. “I don’t know… but this is the message StarClan has chosen to share with us.”

The ThunderClan leader fixed her clear blue eyes on Spottedleaf. Hesitantly, she meowed, “You have never been wrong before.” A silence stretched between them before Bluestar continued. “If StarClan has spoken, then it must be so. Fire will save our Clan.”


	3. Into the Wild: I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belladonna takes center stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed the Tuesday update, guys! Double update today to make up for it!!

* * *

**hey all. im writing this here because i know not everyone reads the notes, but im addressing a few concerns.**

**1- this rewrite came from me talking to my girlfriend about what the series would be like if fireheart wasnt a “gary stu”, or an extremely overpowered character. belladonna was born from this concept.**

**2- belladonna is, in essence, fireheart. one of the main gripes i had with the first arc was that it was always glaringly obvious fireheart was the prophecy cat because of his fur color, so i changed his pelt color to black and eye color to amber.**

**3- belladonna is female because this arc needs more strong female characters. seriously, in the first arc the strong females are either bitches, love interests, or insane.**

**4- belladonna still has fireheart’s personality, but i dialed it back a bit to feel more realistic.**

**thank you for your time. enjoy the rewrite.**

* * *

_ She was sitting in a clearing, next to a pile of dead animals. She should have been horrified, really, but she plucked a robin from the pile and tucked into it. The scent and flavor mingled, and it tasted like some special form of perfection to her. Nothing like the pellets or the slop.  _

_ Belladonna flinched. _

_ Around her were eyes, boring into her pelt. Yellow eyes, green eyes, amber eyes, blue eyes… they all were trained on her, and she shrunk under them. _

_ Around her were the blurry shadows of the forest, and despite the strange gazes, she felt at home in them. Her tail twitched, and Belladonna straightened up.  _

_ “Who are you?” she meowed, sounding braver than she felt. “What do you want from me?” _

_ The silence was deafening, and her own heartbeat thudded loudly in Emberpaw’s ears. Her body shook, a bone-deep chill rushing over her. _

_ “Help us,” a soft voice hissed. “Save us.” _

_ “Save you?” she cried. “From what? How can I help you?” _

_ Above her, the stars glowed brighter and brighter, and a flaming star streaked across the sky.  _

_ A speckled gray tom emerged from the darkness, his blue eyes dark and wild. A burning branch fell from the sky, and Bella shrieked with fear. _

_ “Like fire, you will blaze through the forest… but beware-- even the most powerful of flames can be destroyed by water.” _

_ The branch vanished, as did the tom, leaving only the breath of a whisper. “Fire alone can save our Clan…” _

_ The eyes blinked out, one by one. _

“Hey, Bells.”

Belladonna may have been woken by the mew of a she-cat, but awareness came in bits and pieces as she roused. The first thing she was aware of was her pelt, soaked with rain and clinging to her sides. Then came the pain of her injuries, and then her hearing. 

“What are you doing here? You’re soaked!”

Blinking open her eyes, she stood shakily, embarrassed with the state of her fur, and avoided her sister Princess’s concerned leaf-green gaze. “My housefolk… um. They chased me out.”

Princess’s light brown fur spiked along her spine, eyes blowing wide. “ _ What _ !?”

“Shhh!” Bella slapped her unwashed tail over her littermate’s muzzle. “Be  _ quiet _ ! Smudge said that housefolk don’t like black cats like me. He said there was this one cat, Tiny, that he knew, and Tiny ran away when no housefolk adopted him.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Princess hissed, ears flattening. “I’ll go and give them a piece of my mind!”

“Don’t,” she hissed desperately, crawling out from under the hydrangeas she had taken shelter in the night before. “They’ll hurt you, too!” A fat raindrop hit her directly on the head, and she shuddered at the cold feeling of it.

There was a pause as her sister examined her, and Bella hissed when her cold, pink nose brushed the torn and bloodied skin around her neck. “Your collar…” The collar dug into her cuts painfully, but she had no idea how to get it off. 

“They were pulling on it really hard,” she mumbled, training her gaze on a puddle. It had rained, and was still raining-- she was drenched and cold and unhappy. How long had she been hopping from garden to garden in search of Princess? “It  _ hurts _ .” The deep cuts stung now, and she knew they still bled now and then. Plus, she’d been limping for  _ days _ after her housefolk kicked her in the shoulder, and it was still really painful to put weight on. 

“Maybe my housefolk can take you to the Cutter?” Princess suggested lamely, her foul expression showing what she thought of that certain idea. 

“... no. I don’t want to be like Henry.”

Princess shuddered at the thought of the fat cat-- he had once been energetic like them, but after they took him to the Cutter, he just didn’t  _ care _ anymore.

Bella blinked slowly, staring at the puddle. Her amber eyes, like twin flames, stared back at her. Her fur clung to her skin uncomfortably, hiding the wounds under the scratchy collar, and she shook periodically with chills. 

“Princess… I had a weird dream,” she admitted. 

Her sister angled her ears as she brushed her tail along Bella’s flank, guiding her over to the cat-flap. “What about?”

“There were lots of eyes, and I was in the forest.” The fire and the tom’s eyes flashed in her mind, and she shuddered. 

Princess’s face became pensieve. “The forest, huh?”

Bella frowned. “Yeah…”

“Let’s get you dried off, though,” Princess mewed, and guided Bella through the den to her basket. She settled there happily enough, but ignored the dry pellets. She always hated those things, but with the strange dream with the robin, she felt even less compelled to eat it. Nothing would compare to that. It didn’t matter  _ how _ hungry she was.

The time passed quietly, and as Princess gently licked her wounds, she slipped into a deep slumber.

_ She was in the clearing again, but it was devoid of anything. The pile of dead animals was gone, and so were the eyes. She faintly smelled cats, but didn’t see any. _

_ Padding through the clearing, she looked into what seemed like strange dens of bushes, with baskets made of moss and twigs. All were empty and old, smelling musty. One den was full of dead, rotten leaves, and she left quickly, for the smell of death lingered in the nests there.  _

_ In the center of the clearing was a tom with ginger fur and green eyes. He tilted his head at her, and she felt excitement bubble up in her chest. _

_ “Da!” she squealed, streaking across the grass to meet Jake.  _

_ “Whoa, whoa!” he laughed, and let her pounce on his shoulders. She slowly climbed back down, rubbing her face against his chest adoringly. “Hey, firecracker!” _

_ She purred. “You’re here!” _

_ “Well… not really,” Jake meowed, his face turning solemn. He trained his green eyes on Belladonna’s amber. “I just came to tell you something, okay? Then I have to go again.” _

_ “What? Why?” She blinked at her father, black fur prickling.  _

_ His tail rested on her shoulders reassuringly. “Don’t worry too much, firecracker, I’ll still be keeping an eye on you. I just… I wanted to offer some advice, okay?” _

_ “Okay…”  _

_ “There’s a reason you’re dreaming of this place. Find it. There’s a lot more going on than you think, and there are cats out there that need your help.” _

_ “I-- Da? What are you talking about?” _

She jerked awake just as suddenly as she had fallen asleep. Princess was pressed against her side, a comforting presence in the storm of her mind.

“ _ Princess _ ,” she hissed, jabbing a paw harshly into her sister’s side. Princess murmured in discontent, opening her green eyes slowly. “Princess, wake up!”

“Wha’?”

“I’m--” Belladonna stopped, and looked through the clear-rock. The sun was shining brightly, signalling the passing of the rain, and the trees were visible through it. The words lodged in her throat, but longing made her chest ache more than the gashes on her neck from her collar, similarly to when she couldn’t breathe as the collar constricted around her throat. It sat heavily on her neck now, and she felt a flash of envy for Princess, who never had to wear a collar. She couldn’t go back to her housefolk. She-- she  _ couldn’t _ . And that was the second time she dreamed of that place, and her  _ Da _ was there… “I’m going.”

“Going where?” 

“I’m going into the forest.”

Her littermate was staring at her like she’d lost her entire mind, but that was fair enough. “Why? You’re still really hurt-- you can’t even walk without limping.”

“I… I feel like I  _ have _ to. I had a weird dream about it, even. The clearing with the eyes, except Da was there, and he said to find the clearing.”

She licked her muzzle thoughtfully, and then meowed, “If you’re going, someone has to protect you from the wild cats. I’m going, too.”

Bella smiled. “Thanks, Princess.”

The forest was  _ terrifying _ up close.

Bella was practically shaking in her fur as she perched on the fence with her sister, staring into the trees. The darkness blanketed the earth below the branches, hiding away whatever might be inside. But the call still sat in her chest, deep and longing.

She leapt down and padded into the shadows, wincing as her shoulder screamed in protest.

Princess shifted uncomfortably, pressing her flank against Bella’s. “This is  _ creepy _ .”

“It’s… it’s not so bad?” she mumbled weakly.

They walked for what felt like forever, until rustling caught Bella’s attention.

“What was that?” Princess’s voice wavered, and then she shook out her pelt, fluffing it up. Her eyes hardened as she called out, “Who’s there?”

For a moment, nothing happened.

Out of nowhere, a streak of gray exploded from the brush, knocking into Princess  _ hard _ and sending her bowling over. Frozen, Bella stared as her sister hissed and spit at the other cat attacking her.

Panicked, Bella lunged forward, hooking her claws in the strange cat’s fur and yanking hard, pulling him off of her with a jerking motion. He went practically sprawling, and she took that advantage to leap onto him, pushing a hind paw into his exposed belly, claws unsheathed threateningly, and a forepaw on his throat, pinning him. Her shoulder was wailing from the effort of the whole ordeal, and she bit back a hiss of pain.

They cat blinked up at her with wide amber eyes. “Whoa, you fight pretty good for a tame kitty!”

Princess stumbled over, shaking out her pelt and looking rather offended at the whole turn of events. “Thanks, Bella. Who’s this weirdo?”

“I’m Graypaw!” the tom chirped. “Can I sit up?”

Surprised at the request, Bella backed off, her fur still prickling with anxiety and adrenaline. “Um… I’m Belladonna, and this is my littermate Princess.”

“Cool,” Graypaw meowed, and licked his flank, an almost admiring look in his eyes. “Whoa, check it! You nicked me! I thought kittypets were defenseless!”

Bella’s eyes went wide as she saw the thin streak of crimson, then shook out her pelt.  _ I was defending myself. _ “Are you--”

“Graypaw.”

A massive golden tabby emerged from the brush, his golden eyes flicking from Belladonna to Princess to Graypaw. The young tom sat up straight, his long fur flattening. “Lionheart!” 

The tom glared at Belladonna. “Kittypet, were you hunting in our territory?”

She shook her head wildly. “Wha-- no! Nothing like that!”

“Then what  _ were _ you doing?”

Her heart dropped as a gray-furred molly slunk from the darkness, and Graypaw cowered. “Bluestar…” he leaned towards Bella and Princess. “She’s our  _ leader _ ,” he hissed. 

_ Oh _ . Bella’s tail dropped, and she took a step closer to Princess. “Um…”

Princess stood at her full height, which was about Graypaw’s size but larger than Bella. Significantly larger. Bella hated that she was a runt. “My name’s Princess, and this is Belladonna. Bella’s housefolk hurt her and made her leave. I came with her to protect her, because she’s still hurt and we need help.”

Bluestar stared at them, her eyes searching, before she sighed. “You can fight, that much is clear. Could you hunt, and put mothers and kits before yourself? Could you go hungry if it meant feeding the elders?”

Princess looked to Bella this time, and she raised her chin, disregarding how her collar chafed at her wounds. “I can.”

Her sister nodded resolutely. “And so can I. I’m not going anywhere without Bella.”

The wild cat leader blinked slowly, then tilted her head. “If you would like to join our Clan, return to this place at sunset tonight. Lionheart and one other warrior will be here to meet you.”

Bella took that as a dismissal and meowed, “Thank you, Bluestar,” before hurriedly beckoning her sister and beginning their trek back to town.

They perched on a fence and stared into the darkness-- no housefolk had come to chase them off, so they simply sat there. 

“You… you’re really considering this, huh?” Princess mewed solemnly.

“Um…” Bella blinked. I think so. Yeah.”

Arriving at the clearing, she was met with the sight of two warriors. A large white tom, who just tilted his head, and Lionheart, who blinked.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up. Are you two sure about this?”

Surprisingly, it was Princess who replied, her head held high. “If I wasn’t, I’d drag Bella off by the scruff.”

The white warrior blinked, an amused look in his golden eyes. “I am Whitestorm-- we will be escorting you to our camp.”

“Okay,” Bella agreed readily, following the two as they began to lead them through the twists of the forest. 

Only minutes later, Princess caught her from falling over as she stepped on a slippery rock. “Thanks, Princess,” Bella mumbled tiredly, awkwardly splashing through a stream too broad for her to jump over. 

Whitestorm padded behind the three, his eyes inquisitive. “Why would a Twoleg hurt their kittypet?” he asked.

Princess sighed. “We don’t know, but they pulled on her collar a lot and her collar cut up her neck.”

The white tom’s gaze held worry as he looked at Bella, and she looked back tiredly. Instead of pursuing the topic, she asked Lionheart, “Are you a warrior?”

He blinked. “I am. I’m Graypaw’s mentor. He’s an apprentice.”

“And apprentices are learning to be warriors?”

“You learn fast,” he praised, and a purr rose in Bella’s throat. “Clan names have two parts. The base is Gray, or Lion. When you’re a kit, the second part is -kit, so a few sunrises ago, Graypaw was Graykit.”

“So -paw must be the apprentice part?” Princess asked.

“Yes,” Whitestorm agreed, easily leaping over a log. Princess boosted Bella before clambering over it herself. “And when you’re a warrior, the last part is special for you alone. And leaders have -star,” he finished as they came upon a gorge. Lionheart lifted his tail.

“Belladonna, Princess. Do you have any idea how to find our camp?”

_ A test! _ Bella flicked her tail, opening her mouth to scent before hesitantly looking back at the wild cat. “Follow the cat-scent?”

“Very good,” he praised, and led them down the slope and through more trails until they squeezed through a gorse tunnel.

_ It’s the clearing _ , Bella realized, her eyes widening in surprise. It was far from empty, though-- cats lined the sides, talking to each other or walking around.

The wild cat leader padded up, her blue eyes flashing in curiosity. “They came.”

“They did indeed,” Whitestorm rumbled.

“I will announce their arrival to the Clan,” Bluestar meowed to Lionheart and Whitestorm, who ducked his head. Eyes turned to them curiously, and the clearing fell silent as Bluestar made her way to a corner of the clearing with a large rock, climbing on top of it and raising her tail.

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

Cats detached from the shadows like water from a river, and they began to cluster around the rock. Princess and Bella sat off to the side, simply watching. 

Bluestar’s gaze swept the crowd. A small tortoiseshell tom sat at the foot of the rock, his strangely ginger tail flicking in annoyance at the murmurs in the group. One tom almost directly in front of Bella was dark gray, the black stripes littering his pelt like shadows on a darkened forest floor. 

When all were still, Bluestar spoke. 

“ThunderClan needs more warriors,” she began. “Never before have we had so few apprentices in training. It has been decided that ThunderClan will take in a pair of outsiders to train as warriors…”

Indignant mutters swept the gathered cats, but Bluestar silenced them as she stood, silver muzzle curling in disgust as she yowled. “Silence!”

A long, long pause before she sat again, fur still prickling visibly. 

“I have found two cats who are willing to become apprentices of ThunderClan.”

“ _ Lucky _ to become an apprentice!” The caterwaul came from a pale tabby tom, who was standing with his short fur on end. He glared defiantly at Bluestar, a sneer on his lips. 

Bluestar ignored him. “Lionheart, Whitestorm, you have met the two. What do you have to say for them?”

Whitestorm stood, commanding the attention of his Clan. “They kept up well, despite their soft life before, as we led them to camp. This holds especially true for one, who had been injured before entering the forest.”

The golden tom was in no hurry to speak, but still the cats looked to him respectfully. His tail twitched. “They spoke respectfully and are willing to follow the warrior code, to hunt for others before themselves. I can vouch for them.”

All eyes slid to Bella and Princess. Princess stood tall, meeting their gazes steadily. Bella’s pelt refused to lay flat, and she did her best to look intimidating despite her exhaustion.

“Where do they come from?”

“Which Clan do they belong to?”

“That’s not the scent of any Clan  _ I _ know!”

One yowl raised above the rest. “Look at the collar! They’re  _ kittypets _ !”

The pale tabby from before stood with a defiant gleam in his eye, and Bella’s ears flattened. He continued, seeming encouraged by her annoyance.

“Once a kittypet, always a kittypet! ThunderClan needs wildborn warriors to defend it, not another mouth to feed! Look at that  _ runt _ !”

Lionheart bent down to hiss in Bella’s ear. “That is Longtail. He smells your fear-- they  _ all _ do. Prove to him and everyone else that your fear won’t hold you down.”

Her paws felt like lead, and her shoulder screamed in pain, but she slowly stood. Bella’s tail lashed once, and her eyes narrowed.

Longtail continued to taunt her, and the other Clan cats were agreeing easily. “Your collar is a mark of your  _ Twolegs _ , jingling and jangling and scaring off all the prey in the forest-- at  _ best _ ! At worst, Twolegs will come stomping into the forest, looking for their  _ poor lost kittypet _ who fills the woods with her pitiful tinkling!”

The Clan howled in agreement, and Bella flattened her ears in defiance. Longtail continued, knowing full well he had the support of his Clan.

“The noise of your ridiculous bell will alert all the other Clans if your Twoleg  _ stench _ won’t!”

The golden warrior spoke again. “Will you back down from a challenge?”

Bella’s lip curled as she scanned the crowd, pinpointing Longtail’s location. There he was; right behind a dusky brown molly, who kept silent as her Clanmates cheered Longtail on. She angled her tail, pressing her body against the ground. Longtail pranced closer, taking this as a sign of weakness, sneering over her.

“You’ll  _ never _ be a warri--  _ agh! _ ”

He was cut off as Princess swiped at his head, tearing a vee in his ear. He hissed in shock, and Bella took advantage of the distraction to launch forwards, her claws hooking into the fur on his shoulders as she dug her teeth into his throat-- not deep enough to pierce, but deep enough to  _ hurt _ . Princess rammed into his shoulder, and she dislodged, peeling away in time to dodge a paw slamming into the space she had been moments before.

She sucked in a breath as Princess batted at Longtail’s hind legs, sending him tumbling down, but a flailing forepaw slammed into her bad shoulder and she yelped in pain as it gave out under her.

Longtail hissed in malicious delight as his teeth clamped onto her collar, and began to  _ pull _ .

She wanted to  _ wail _ in agony as the collar dug into the cuts, reopening them as quickly as her housefolk would and blood wept from it, staining the pink collar red. She choked and thrashed, trying to  _ breathe _ , and her hind paws slammed outwards. She felt one connect with his throat, and Longtail jerked back to gag.

With an awful  _ snap! _ the collar went with him. Princess hissed, her green eyes murderous as she moved to intercept Longtail.

Stumbling away, Longtail turned and crouched, his tail waving. Hanging from his jaws was Bella’s bloodstained collar. Princess snarled, deep and low, whilst Bella heaved for air.

At once, Bluestar leapt down. “Enough!”

Her thunderous caterwaul silenced the murmurs of the Clan, and Longtail straightened, spitting out Bella’s collar and backing away. His ear now had a large notch, courtesy of Princess, and the fur on his shoulders was all but gone, which was Bella’s doing.

Princess was mostly untouched, though her pelt was rumpled. Bella leaned heavily on her, her shoulder having completely given up on working, as the ring of slashes around her throat dripped crimson, staining the dusty ground. 

Bluestar stared at the collar, then raised her head. 

“The newcomers have been freed of the collar in a battle for their honor. StarClan has spoken their approval-- these cats have been released from the holds of their Twoleg owners, and are free to join ThunderClan as apprentices.”

Gentle murmurs hushed in the face of their leader, and Longtail backed away, his hostility not yet spent, although he held it back. 

Panting, Bella raised her head. She did not meet their eyes, like Princess was, but she stared into Bluestar’s. Sunlight glared in her eyes, but she refused to flinch.

“Your eyes… are like flames in this light,” Bluestar murmured. Her eyes flashed briefly, as if her words had more meaning than Bella could understand. She looked to Princess, her light brown tabby coat already smoothing as she bathed herself unabashedly. “And your skill was glaringly obvious.”

Bluestar turned, leaping back onto the Highrock, and with all those eyes on Bella, she was reminded of her dream.

_ Is this my destiny? _ She wondered.

“Princess, you are six moons old, and with your arrival you will be apprenticed.” Princess straightened up at the leader’s words. “From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Sweetpaw. Your mentor will be…” Her eyes cut through the crowd again, thoughtful. “Runningwind.”

A tabby tom jolted in surprise, and padded forward. The Clan split to let him pass.

“Runningwind, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have shown yourself to be energetic and skillful, and you will be the mentor of Sweetpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to her.”

He approached Princ-- Sweetpaw, and leaned forward a bit. “We touch noses,” he murmured, and despite his annoyed tone, his eyes shone with pride. P--Sweetpaw obliged, pressing her nose to his gently.

“Belladonna, you are six moons old, and with your arrival you will be apprenticed.” Bella flicked her eyes to the leader again, sitting as straight as she could with her wounds. The leader gazed down at her solemnly. “From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Emberpaw. Your mentor will be Mousefur.”

The dusky brown molly from before jerked upwards, her eyes blown wide in shock. She practically stumbled forwards, and Bella--  _ Emberpaw _ \-- stood to greet her shakily. 

“Mousefur, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have shown yourself to be loyal and intelligent, and you will be the mentor of Emberpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to her.”

Mousefur’s nose was cold against Emberpaws as they met, and Emberpaw felt herself smile despite her exhaustion. 

“Emberpaw! Sweetpaw! Emberpaw! Sweetpaw!”

She blinked tiredly, and just then, a young tortoiseshell she-cat came stomping through the crowd, her fur bristling.

“Longtail, to my den. Emberpaw, Sweetpaw, follow me.”

Exchanging a confused glance with her littermate, Emberpaw padded after the she-cat into a den filled with the scent of herbs.

_ This-- this is-- _

_ This is the place that smelled of death in my dream. _


	4. Into the Wild: II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emberpaw’s journey begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, themes of animal abuse. Sorry, guys, but them’s the facts— cats are among the most often abused pets, and of them, black cats are the worst off because of superstition.  
> I included this expressly to introduce the idea that “not all kittypets are soft” to the Clan cats as well as give Emberpaw an actual reason to leave her Twolegs instead of having one (1) dream and deciding that she’s gonna leave her comfortable life.

Longtail shot her a dirty look from where he sat. “What in the name of StarClan happened to your neck? I didn’t do that.”

Her heart felt cold as the wounds were pointed out. Her pelt felt hot with embarrassment-- but _why_? 

_Helpless as she was kicked aside, the collar stinging her neck from where she had been pulled. She curled in the corner, tears stinging her eyes from the pure fear in her veins as her housefolk stalked away--_

“My housefolk-- my _Twoleg_ ,” she said hesitantly, “was cruel to me.”

She refused to acknowledge how Longtail’s face went from smug to shocked, and then to shame-- she outright ignored it. 

“I’m Spottedleaf-- the Clan’s medicine cat,” the tortoiseshell molly meowed simply, nudging a bundle of leaves towards Emberpaw with a frown. “I can smell infection. It’s a miracle you’re still walking, really, and the wound is so old. How often was it reopened?”

Sweetpaw’s eyes were trained on Emberpaw as she replied, her head low with shame. “It never gets the chance to heal…”

Longtail visibly flinched at that, and curled into himself.

“Hmm… well, it’s best to eat these.” Spottedleaf’s eyes are gentle, and slowly, Emberpaw laps them up. “I’ll have to put a poultice on that, and depending on how things are going for you, you might be able to do a patrol if you don’t strain yourself.”

Emberpaw laid down, and after a few heartbeats, the medicine cat was licking a mush into her wound that stung so badly she had to grit her teeth and screw up her eyes. At least Longtail had to suffer through it as well-- she saw him scowling as Spottedleaf applied the stuff to his wounded ear. 

Spottedleaf stepped back. “Good news-- your wound is shallow, Emberpaw. It will heal easily, it’s just irritated. You should be fine for patrol tomorrow-- you can head to the apprentice’s den now, though.”

She nodded, standing tiredly and trailing out of the den. Graypaw was waiting for them, his amber eyes lit with delight. “Hi, Emberpaw! Hi, Sweetpaw!” The apprentice looked like he was about to explode with excitement as he stared at the two of them, wriggling in place. “I can show you your new den!”

“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly, following the gray tom through the clearing. She kept her eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding the curious gazes, until Graypaw slipped into a den of bushes. Three other cats already sat inside. A brown tabby curled his lip at Emberpaw and Sweetpaw.

“Ew, what’s _that_ ?” he hissed. “I smell _kittypets_.”

A black tom with a dash of white on his chest stumbled sleepily to his feet, blinking bleary eyes at the three apprentices entering. “Dustpaw, don’t be mean…”

A pale ginger molly trotted up to Emberpaw, and pointed a tail at her neck. “I didn’t see Longtail get you _that_ bad, Tinykit!”

Emberpaw avoided her mocking gaze, and Sweetpaw growled. “The Twolegs did that to her. It’s why we _left_ . Take your insults and _choke_ on them.”

With finality, Sweetpaw looked over at Graypaw. “How do we build a nest?”

Graypaw seemed to sag a bit. “Well… we can’t do that ‘til morning. Two of the six of us have to sleep on the floor--”

“It’s fine,” Emberpaw reassured hurriedly. “I know I’m a runt, so you don’t have to tiptoe around it-- I can share a nest with Prin-- with Sweetpaw.” Sweetpaw nodded sagely, pressing her flank reassuringly against her sister.

The black tom from before blinked, and his eyes widened in excitement. “You’re small like me!” His voice was delighted as he nosed closer to Emberpaw. “We’re both black runts. I’m Ravenpaw, by the way.”

“Oh…” Emberpaw blinked, bewildered by his excitement. “Do you think we can all fit in your nest?” She stared into his eyes thoughtfully— they were a rich violet, like the dying rays of the sun as it set. 

Ravenpaw seemed to think on that, looking down to study his nest. “If we squash, I think so,” he mewed. 

With a lot of awkward scooting and squishing, they all finally settled into a comfortable position, and quickly fell asleep. For Emberpaw, at least, it was dreamless.

“Hey. Wake up.”

A paw prodded Emberpaw’s side, and she lifted her head sleepily. She was pressed into Sweetpaw’s chest, and Ravenpaw was curled beside her, all three of the apprentices having their various limbs tangled together awkwardly. He blinked his violet eyes open slowly, and then grinned at Emberpaw, extracting himself from the mess and stretching. Graypaw huffed in amusement.

“Come on, Sweetpaw,” Graypaw goaded, jabbing Emberpaw’s littermate this time. She rumbled softly in return, cracking open a single green eye. “Me and you have to be with Sandpaw for dawn hunting patrol.”

“Ugh, really?” Ravenpaw stretched, leading the small group out of the den. “I guess that leaves me, Emberpaw, and Dustpaw for dawn border patrol.”

“You’d be right.”

The dusky brown molly, Mousefur, padded up, her amber eyes lit with amusement. Emberpaw flicked her tail nervously as her new mentor settled her eyes on the black apprentice. 

“Spottedleaf said not to do anything like battle training or hunting yet, so patrol it is.”

“Okay,” she agreed hurriedly.

“Now hurry up and eat, we don’t have all sunrise.”

The four apprentices hurried to the heap of dead animals. “This is the fresh-kill pile,” Graypaw announced, his eyes shining. “We put the prey we catch here!”

“Have the elders been fed yet?” Ravenpaw asked a passing tabby tom-- Runningwind, Sweetpaw’s mentor, if Emberpaw remembered correctly.

Runningwind paused before he shrugged. “Take them something anyway.”

The black apprentice looked over at Emberpaw, and picked up a rather large mouse. “Come on, I’ll introduce you. Just grab something.”

After a moment of looking, a young rabbit was chosen, and she began to awkwardly drag it as she padded behind Ravenpaw, trying to keep it from getting covered in dust.

They padded to a den near the medicine cat’s, and as they ducked inside, Emberpaw took note of five elderly cats, all lounging around. One picked her head up-- a dappled molly. She grinned. 

“Hey, Ravenpaw. And the new apprentice-- Amberpaw?”

“Emberpaw,” she corrected awkwardly, dropping the rabbit. “Have you eaten?”

“Nope,” a dark brown tabby tom purred, coming over and sinking his teeth into the rabbit. “‘M Halftail.”

“And I’m Dappletail,” the dappled she-cat meowed, stretching. “One-eye’s practically blind and deaf, but she can still tell you some good stories if you listen. Patchpelt and Smallear won’t bug you as much as I will, but Rosetail is sweet if you have patience,” she purred before digging in.

A black-and-white tom-- Patchpelt, she thinks-- flicks his tail. “You two can have the mouse. Thanks, kits.”

Ravenpaw nosed the mouse over. “You can have the first bite-- you’ve never eaten fresh-kill before, right?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, hesitantly sinking her teeth into the mouse’s soft flesh, then froze. 

“Are you okay?”

In one quick movement, she practically ripped the mouse in half, shoving the other half over to Ravenpaw as she tore into her own part. Ravenpaw laughed.

“I’ll take that as a _yes_.”

Patrol had been, so far, interesting. Tallpines might have been her favorite place, the scent of pine and the needles under her paws feeling strangely like home, despite the warning of Treecut Place. To get to Snakerocks, they had to pass right by the Twolegplace, which brought a frown to Emberpaw’s face as Dustpaw taunted her about how _homesick_ she must be.

From Snakerocks, there was the Great Sycamore-- she almost fell over with how much she was craning her neck trying to see the tip-- and then to the Thunderpath.

The scent of marsh and earth and dew mingled in her scent-glands, and she tilted her head. It was cat-scent, obviously, but she’d never smelled a cat like _that_.

“That’s ShadowClan-- one of four Clans out here in this forest,” Mousefur meowed, blinking with narrowed eyes. “The other two are WindClan and RiverClan-- RiverClan has been _especially_ awful these past few seasons.” 

Tigerclaw, Ravenpaw’s mentor, had growled in agreement. 

Redtail led the patrol group to Fourtrees, saying something about Gatherings every full moon. Apparently, he was Dustpaw’s mentor, and the brown tabby looked like he would _explode_ with pride as he whispered to Emberpaw, “He’s the _deputy_. One of the most important cats in the Clan, since he’s Bluestar’s right paw!”

Nothing really _exciting_ happened until they reached Sunningrocks, and as Emberpaw stared up at the sleek brown tom perched on one of the highest rocks, smelling of fish and salt with a smug look on his face, she sincerely wished that nothing exciting had happened at all.

Ravenpaw pressed close to her, his violet eyes flicking from cat to cat worriedly. “That’s RiverClan,” he hissed anxiously. 

There was a long silence, and then Mousefur broke it with a loud meow.

“Emberpaw, _run_.” 

A RiverClan warrior launched herself at Tigerclaw just as Emberpaw spun, beginning to bolt. 

“Get help!” Ravenpaw yowled, and in the corner of her eye, Emberpaw saw his terrified expression just before he threw his entire, tiny body straight into an enemy tom.

Fear pumped through her blood, and Emberpaw _ran_ . She ran hard and fast, not caring that she had _no idea_ where she was or how to get back to camp-- her shoulder _screamed_ in protest, but she kept _running_. The screams of pained cats faded behind her as she found the gorge and followed the well-worn path on bloody paws-- when had they started bleeding? When she crashed through the brambles?-- and her gaze locked on Lionheart, who was heading back into camp with a mouse in his jaws.

“Lionheart!” she shrieked, and the golden warrior spun in shock. She wheezed for air, feeling the world sway around her before she shook her head and cleared it. “Sunningrocks-- RiverClan-- outnumbered--”

Lionheart dropped the mouse and ran the rest of the way to camp.

Emberpaw’s shoulder felt like it was on fire. The gash on her neck burned from the contact with open air, exposed when the branches had torn away the poultice. She was shaking in exhaustion, pads bloody and raw. 

Ravenpaw’s face flashed in her mind’s eye.

And she ran _back_.

She didn’t care when bramble thorns tore through her pelt, or when she splashed through two streams in a row and ran soaking, her pelt clinging to her sides. She just… ran.

And when she finally came back, bursting into the warzone, she heard strange scraping sounds underneath the yowling. As she looked up, she saw rocks shifting.

“ _Look out_!” she screeched at the two cats locked in battle below the shifting rocks. 

Redtail-- that was _Redtail_ , her _deputy_ \-- barely looked up in time to scramble out of the way. The brown tom from before wasn’t so lucky, scrambling forwards, his eyes locking onto Emberpaw’s--

The rocks slammed down right behind him, and the battle stilled. The tom froze, his eyes wide with shock, as he turned his head ever-so-slightly to stare at what could have been his fate.

Mousefur raised her head, and on her shoulder, what must have been an old wound was opened up again. Dustpaw staggered up, and scratches littered his face and sides. Ravenpaw’s throat and neck seemed torn by a mix of fangs and claws. 

They were all in awful shape.

“Go!” Redtail ordered, blood smearing his snout. “Tigerclaw and I will chase off the rest!”

Mousefur rapidly limped away, and Emberpaw silently retreated, her fur on end.

“He’s-- he almost _died_ ,” she whispered. Dustpaw was similarly frozen in place, his fur spiked. 

Ravenpaw nudged the two until they were settled in the undergrowth, and gently pressed his flank against hers, running his tail over Dustpaw’s ears. “It wasn’t… they _didn’t_. You saved them, Emberpaw. What if you hadn’t seen it?” 

Her gut churned with the very image as Dustpaw gagged. Blood staining the rocks as gore sprayed everywhere, a howl cut short. The sounds of battle were fading as Emberpaw shook away the image.

“We-- we have to get back to camp,” Dustpaw wheezed, standing slowly.

Emberpaw looked over at the Sunningrocks, and watched the tom from before give one last hard blow to Redtail before running to the river, disappearing under the water’s surface. Tigerclaw and Redtail stood panting, and Redtail spoke.

“Yikes… Oakheart really did a number on me,” he croaked, and as he turned slightly, Emberpaw saw his pale chest growing redder and redder with blood seeping from a wound on his throat. “I need to get to Spottedleaf.”

“You won’t make it.”

Tigerclaw’s voice was silky soft, nothing like the concern Emberpaw expected. She shrank back, and saw Ravenpaw staring at the exchange with equally wide eyes. Dustpaw had frozen in place, and instinctively, Emebrpaw hooked her paw around Dustpaw’s leg, dragging him back into the darkness.

“Tigerclaw?”

Redtail’s wandering eyes locked on the three apprentices, and just as he squinted in confusion, Tigerclaw’s massive form slammed into him.

Ravenpaw recoiled in shock, and Emberpaw covered a gasp. Tigerclaw’s long, wicked claws unsheathed and dug into the wound left by Oakheart, ripping deeper, deeper, until blood was practically _spurting_ from Redtail’s throat--

\-- he made an awful, gurgling sound, his eyes boring into Emberpaw’s, and then his entire body went limp.

Tigerclaw growled in satisfaction, backing away and licking the blood off his paw with a smug expression. The apprentices sat frozen, hardly daring to _breathe_.

As the dark tabby lifted his deputy’s limp body, he began to drag it. He was barely a tail-length away from Emberpaw as he continued his steady march back to camp. 

At some point, Emberpaw nudged Dustpaw to his paws, and then, holding Ravenpaw between them, they stumbled back to camp in a daze, their eyes distant with shock of the horror they had seen. They returned to camp long before Tigerclaw, since he was dragging a body, but Emberpaw still stared at the gorse tunnel as Spottedleaf tried to convince her to go into the medicine den, where Ravenpaw and Dustpaw had been escorted.

It was dusk, and the other two were already out again. The three apprentices kept silent vigil, words not describing the horror they felt. Dustpaw sat close to his brother, and Emberpaw felt distant, like she was as far away from them as the river was from Twolegplace. 

When Tigerclaw finally dragged himself and Redtail into camp, a collective wail overtook the Clan.

“Oakheart dealt a terrible blow,” Tigerheart meowed gravely. “His claws went too deep, and after RiverClan retreated, it was all I could do to give him company as he bled out.”

Dustpaw sat rigid, his face disbelieving, before he backed away. “I-- I can’t believe this. This isn’t happening.”

Sweetpaw finally approached, her tongue rasping over her sister’s ear. “Are you okay? This is so awful, I was terrified you got hurt, why aren’t you with Spottedleaf?”

The vigil passed in almost total silence.

Emberpaw only faintly registered Lionheart being named the new deputy, only seeing Tigerclaw's face twisting when he wasn’t chosen. She stood on the edge of the crowd, blankly staring at Redtail’s beaten body. 

At some point, Spottedleaf had dragged Emberpaw to her den. She fully expected a lecture, but instead, Spottedleaf bathed her ears after patching up her wounds as best as she could. The gesture hazily reminded Emberpaw of her and Sweetpaw’s mother, Nutmeg. 

“You were so brave,” the medicine cat murmured. “I heard what Lionheart and Mousefur said, how you ran here and back. How you-- how you saved my brother from the rockfall.”

“He’s still dead, though,” me murmured blankly, staring at her moss-wrapped paws. “I wasn’t-- I wasn’t _fast_ enough. If I’d just gotten Lionheart and ran back--” _Tigerclaw wouldn’t be able to murder Redtail._

As she slept in the medicine den that night, her dreams were filled with the dying screams of Oakheart as he was crushed, and the fear in Redtail’s eyes as his throat was ripped open by his own Clanmate.

If she woke up and crawled into Ravenpaw’s nest, terrified of closing her eyes, that was nobody’s business but her own.

“Ravenpaw, stop putting all of your weight on your left!” Tigerclaw snapped, and Emberpaw jumped, scooting away from the dark warrior. 

“Well, _I’m_ more lopsided than a three-legged badger!” Graypaw announced dramatically before stumbling around and collapsing. “I’ll have to settle for stupid mice. They’ll come right up to me and I will sit on them until they suffocate.”

Emberpaw managed a weak purr as Lionheart chastised his apprentice about being serious before tucking her paws in more.

“What is the difference between hunting a bird, a mouse, or a rabbit?” Lionheart asked, his tail raising slightly, as if to punctuate his question.

“Rabbits will hear you first, right?” Emberpaw suggested, thinking of their massive ears. She was pleased when Mousefur gave her an approving nod.

“And birds will see you,” Graypaw added confidently.

Emberpaw looked at Ravenpaw, who glanced back with worried eyes before meowing, “And a mouse will… feel your pawsteps?”

Tigerclaw nodded once. “You must put your paws down lightly as you move.”

“Okay. Stalk like you’re stalking a mouse,” Mousefur mewed, shooting a significant look at Emberpaw.

A mouse? Emberpaw frowned, and slowly set a paw down in front of her, then shifting her weight forwards as she moved, keeping as low to the ground as possible as she practically pulled herself forward, pawstep by pawstep.

“Not bad, Emberpaw,” Mousefur mewed, “but you’re still favoring your front-left paw. Did you strain it in the battle?”

Her fur grew hot. “Um… old wound… a Twoleg kicked me in the shoulder.” She failed to mention that this happened repeatedly.

Mousefur frowned. “Have Spottedleaf check it out later. For now, let’s adjust your position-- start with lifting your tail.” There was a pause as Emberpaw raised her tail, before Mousefur batted at it, forcing it down again. “Not like that, feather-brain!” she hissed. “Just above the ground so it doesn’t brush dead leaves and such!”

“Sorry, Mousefur,” she mumbled, adjusting again. Her shoulder protested, but thankfully not much. 

Tigerclaw prowled over to her, his eyes narrowed with his pure loathing of her. “Mousefur, you need to be harsher on this kittypet.”

“This _kittypet_ ,” Mousefur meowed drily, “beat Longtail soundly in a fight, and she was still wounded. Keep your paws on your own apprentice.”

Ravenpaw jumped, then quickly scrambled back into the appropriate crouch. 

Lionheart sighed. “Maybe they will focus better if they go hunting-- Graypaw, the Owltree will suffice. Ravenpaw, the Great Sycamore. Emberpaw, Sunningrocks.”

In her mind’s eye, Redtail’s terrified gaze flashed. Her pelt prickled.

“She’s too much of a _coward_ to risk seeing tail or whisker of RiverClan,” Tigerclaw sneered, and Mousefur’s tail lashed, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I do recall you being terrified of being at Snakerocks alone after Thistleclaw died there,” she growled lowly. “Perhaps she fears meeting Redtail’s fate.”

The two black apprentices avoided her eyes and pressed closer together, too scared to speak. Nobody would believe them if they said it was Tigerclaw that killed him. They had no proof-- none at all. It was all they could do but keep silent and hope they weren’t next.

Tigerclaw growled and stalked into the undergrowth, and after a moment of hesitation, Emberpaw ducked past a fallen branch and padded through the forest, already on her way to Sunningrocks.

It was a short journey from the sandy hollow to the river, and she fell into a crouch, opening her jaws ever-so-slightly and scenting the air.

Just downwind of her-- mouse. 

She raised her tail off the ground, just letting it hover, and crept slowly forward, pawstep by pawstep. She heard its tiny heartbeat in the fur of her ears, and drew in her paws just as its tiny brown body came into view. 

The mouse looked up a second too late, and she launched herself on top of it, pinning its tail with one paw and using the other to snap it’s neck.

She picked it up, amber eyes glowing with pride as she looked around; in the shadows of a tree, she saw Mousefur waiting, an approving light in her gaze.

She’d made her first kill. Emberpaw was really and truly _ThunderClan_ now.

Two moons had come and gone. 

Some things stuck out of the blur; Sweetpaw and Emberpaw had ended up just making the nest bigger for the sisters and Ravenpaw to share; it was less moss than three separate nests. Dustpaw sometimes joined them when he had nightmares, and as Sweetpaw and Graypaw and Sandpaw slept, they pressed against each other and watched the den entrance, terrified Tigerclaw had somehow discovered what they had witnessed. 

Spottedleaf had told Emberpaw her shoulder had a torn ligament, and it hadn’t healed properly. She would have some pain, but not much else besides that unless she strained her shoulder extensively.

She and Sandpaw butted heads much less, and Longtail, who had backed off after their encounter in Spottedleaf’s den, had barely given her a second glance. 

Sweetpaw advanced in leaps and bounds, clawing ever closer to being able to defeat _Tigerclaw_ in a mock battle-- something that terrified Emberpaw to no end. Redtail could have taken the massive tabby down in a heartbeat, if it had been anything but a surprise attack.

Meanwhile, Emberpaw and Sandpaw had a quasi-friendly competition going over who could bring the most prey back to camp, which delighted Lionheart, who openly praised the pair for being so driven. It kept Sandpaw from snapping about her kittypet life before, and therefore dredging up horrible memories, so Emberpaw didn’t complain.

Still, the knowledge of Redtail’s murder sat heavily on Emberpaw’s shoulders. 

The scent of a water-vole hit the roof of her mouth as she prowled along the riverbed, and she immediately dropped into a crouch, listening hard for the telltale beat of a rodent’s life-blood. 

Its tiny, brown nose stuck out of a little burrow in the riverbed, and Emberpaw held her breath as it crept out, tail twitching as it turned--

\-- and Emberpaw pounced, slamming her paw down on its neck and killing it instantly. Her belly growled; she hadn’t eaten in hours, but she knew the most simple rule to follow. The Clan must be fed first.

She lifted the vole, grunting happily as she noticed how fat it was, and padded over to a tree, already digging a shallow hole to hide her fresh-kill in.

A foul, sharp scent made her balk. A twig snapped, and she dropped the vole hastily, scraping dirt and leaves over it and slowly turning in a circle, scanning the darkness.

She recognized the scent-- it was the same one wafting across the Thunderpath. _ShadowClan_.

A mangy gray molly prowled out of the shadows, amber eyes lit with madness. “Ah, a puny apprentice… easy prey for Yellowfang!”

She pounced at Emberpaw, who yowled loudly-- not out of fear, but rather to alert patrols she knew had to be close. What was a _ShadowClan_ cat doing so close to the RiverClan border?

The mangy cat slammed into her side, and she snarled, recovering as quickly as possible and rolling back to her paws, unsheathing her claws as she grimaced at the cat, presumedly Yellowfang. Emberpaw followed up Yellowfang’s attack with one of her own, diving for the she-cats paws and swiping upwards with one of her paws, hitting solidly on her throat. She choked, having expected to get her paws swept out from under her, but then snarled and clawed Emberpaw’s shoulder.

“You’re the kittypet ThunderClan took in,” she growled lowly. “Yellowfang will make mousemeat of you!”

With that, she dove for Emberpaw’s throat, and the black apprentice spun, letting her latch onto her scruff instead and getting a mouthful of her fur. Being so fluffy did have its benefits, she thought smugly as she slammed her head into Yellowfang’s throat.

She dodged just in time, and swept her paw out, catching Emberpaw in her knee and sending her sprawling, pinning her to the ground swiftly.

At first, Emberpaw fought back, using her hind legs to tear at the older cat’s belly, but seeing the resolve in Yellowfang’s eyes gave her an idea. She went limp.

Yellowfang hissed in pleasure. “Nice kitty, will make a good meal--”

She was totally unprepared for Emberpaw to wriggle out of her grip and, upon noticing the she-cat’s wounded shoulder, digging her own teeth into it. Yellowfang howled in pain.

Just then, a patrol burst into the fight, led by Bluestar herself. Her pelt spiked as Emberpaw was tossed aside by the furious ShadowClan cat. Her shoulder hit one of the Sunningrocks, and with a flash of blinding pain, all she could think of was a desperate, _not again_!

Runningwind and Longtail leapt forward, both working to pin Yellowfang to the ground, and Emberpaw struggled to her paws, her shoulder wailing with the movement. She tucked her leg in, unwilling to show weakness.

“Her name is Yellowfang,” Emberpaw spat harshly. 

Bluestar’s eyes narrowed. “Escort her to camp as a prisoner. Emberpaw, you fought well, but follow closely-- I’ll send Graypaw to collect any of your prey. Spottedleaf will want to see to your wounds.”

“Of course, Bluestar,” she meowed with a dip of her head. As soon as her leader turned, she began limping after the patrol. “You heard me, then?”

She didn’t miss the amused look on Bluestar’s face. “The real question is, who didn’t? I’m sure half of StarClan knows you were in a spat.”

“Good, then,” she meowed boldly. “If I didn’t, I’d either be dead or unconscious while a ShadowClan warrior was hunting on our territory.”

Yellowfang wheezed out a laugh at that. “Don’t exaggerate my starving glory, kitty. That apprentice ya got there, Bluestar, she’s got quite the claws!”

Uncomfortable, Emberpaw avoided her gaze, instead settling it on the sky.

She wasn’t sure if she believed in StarClan, but she murmured anyway, “Did you guide my paws to Yellowfang?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, her shoulder injury is permanent and a recurring problem. I’m doing this because the Erins treat their disabled characters like SHIT. Examples (MILD SPOILERS FOR CANON):
> 
> Briarlight was depressed and then died  
> Jayfeather was forced to be a medicine cat  
> Cinderpelt was forced to be a medicine cat and then died  
> Longtail was forced into the elder’s den and then died  
> Brightheart was mocked a fuck ton
> 
> And this is only SOME of the disabled characters!!! Emberpaw is gonna be a stronk girl!!!


	5. Into the Wild: III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are told, and Emberpaw finds herself caught in the middle of it.

“How is it you do _nothing_ except get hurt?” Spottedleaf hissed, binding Emberpaw’s leg roughly. Her ears laid flat against her skull, tail lashing as she side-eyed Yellowfang before she could turn her attention to the ShadowClan cat. “And _you_! What happened to you?!”

Yellowfang licked her chest, and curled her tail around her paws. Bluestar was sitting in the medicine den as well, her old eyes tracking every movement. Finally, she spoke. “Brokenstar is an evil cat, Spottedleaf. He committed an unspeakable horror and blamed me for it when I got in his way.”

Emberpaw whimpered as her weight shifted, and Spottedleaf turned again, her eyes searching. “You might have torn your strained ligament,” she meowed softly, then looking at Bluestar. “If she recovers the full use of her leg, she will still limp for the rest of her life.”

Bluestar’s eyes settled on Emberpaw’s. She swallowed heavily, but stared back, just as she had the day she was accepted into ThunderClan. “Emberpaw.”

She ducked her head. “Yes, Bluestar?” She could barely meow past the lump in her throat-- was Bluestar going to force her to stop being an apprentice? Would she have to go to the elder’s den? Would she be kicked out of the Clan?

“Do you believe that you can work to overcome your weakness?”

Her fur prickled, and Emberpaw raised her chin to once again meet her leader’s piercing blue gaze. “I _know_ I can.”

Bluestar nodded once. “Then remember that when things get difficult-- to train your leg and get you used to life with it, you will take sole responsibility for Yellowfang. You will learn from Spottedleaf how to treat her wounds, and you will be hunting for her daily as well as taking care of her nest. Is this reasonable?”

“Of course, Bluestar.”

Immediately, Emberpaw turned her attention to the medicine cat, who purred in amusement.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Emberpaw, but I’ve always wanted an apprentice.”

She blinked slowly, then smiled. “I might not be cut out for a medicine cat, but I can promise you that you’ll get an apprentice.”

“I hope so,” she purred, and then flicked her tail playfully. “Here, I’ll show you what herbs you’ll need…”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” Emberpaw grimaced as she dabbed the moss-covered stick against Yellowfang’s pelt, before extracting the tick that screeched in disgust. She could relate. Crushing it between her teeth, she checked the molly over one last time before nodding to herself. 

“I didn’t ask to be taken care of by a kittypet,” Yellowfang replied silkily. “I hear you and your sister are a pair of embarrassments--”

A snarl interrupted her as Emberpaw backed away, her pelt spiked. “Cram it, rogue. Insult me all you like, but Sweetpaw is an incredible asset to ThunderClan, unlike yourself.”

There was a pause, and then Yellowfang’s chest heaved as she made horrible, wheezing sounds. Emberpaw jumped, startled, until she realized-- the old cat was _laughing_.

“Hah-- you have a tongue as sharp as your claws, eh?” Her ember eyes glittered. “Alright, I’ll keep my nose outta your sister’s side.”

Forcing her fur to lay flat, she gave Yellowfang a curt nod. “Is that all for now? There’s a Gathering I need to get to.”

Upon her nod, Emberpaw slipped out of the tree-stump den and limped over to join Sweetpaw in standing by the gorse tunnel. Ravenpaw was quick to join, his violet eyes lit with excitement. 

“I can’t believe _we_ were chosen instead of Sandpaw and Dustpaw!”

The two apprentice’s (plus Ravenpaw’s, as he was Dustpaw’s littermate) warrior assessments were near; another three moons had passed since Emberpaw met Yellowfang, and the fact that her own assessment had to be just as close sent a thrill down her spine.

Her pelt shivered with excitement. “I know.”

“You’re gonna tell me what happens, though.” Their denmate’s blunt voice interrupted their thoughts, and Emberpaw smiled nervously at Dustpaw. He stared at them, blank-faced. 

“Of course we will,” Ravenpaw sniffed. “We tell each other everything.”

“Littermates always do,” Emberpaw agreed, and then felt a hot flash of shame rupple under her fur. She didn’t share everything. Sweetpaw doesn’t know about Redtail. She doesn’t know who Tigerclaw really is.

The shame must have shown on her face, because Dustpaw coughs awkwardly. “Well… I think we all need to talk when we get back.”

She flattened her ears. When had Dustpaw matured? “Yeah.”

Graypaw padded over, Sandpaw almost directly behind him. “Aw, how come you guys get to go and not me?”

“Because the Clan has to be protected in Bluestar’s absence,” Sweetpaw reminded him gently, and, true to her name, a sweet smile graced her features. “You and Sandpaw and Dustpaw are the best fighters!”

“Besides Sweetpaw,” Emberpaw added before her sister batted at her gently. 

“ThunderClan!” Bluestar’s yowl drew their attention, and silently, the Clan began to follow her. Once through the gorse tunnel, Emberpaw looked up, marveling at Silverpelt. Each star shone as beautifully as the last, and the inky darkness seemed to swirl in invisible patterns. 

The full moon hung high overhead as they arrived at Fourtrees. RiverClan and ShadowClan were already packed in, but WindClan was absent. Bluestar leapt onto the Great Rock, her eyes worried as she scanned the crowd. 

Sweetpaw padded alongside Emberpaw, her muscular form in stark contrast to Emberpaw’s small size as she practically parted the crowd with her sunny smiles. Eventually, they settled in a small group of RiverClan apprentices.

A silver molly was sitting next to Emberpaw. “Hi! I’m Silverpaw.”

“Emberpaw,” she mewed in return. “I like your pelt.”

The apprentice laughed, apparently surprised by the compliment. “Oh! Yeah, my Da says I look like my Mum, so I try to keep my coat shiny. It makes him happy to see it, I think.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” Emberpaw purred. “I can’t really remember my parents, but my dam looked like Sweetpaw and my sire was ginger.”

“Dam-- sire?” Silverpaw blinked curiously.

“We were born to kittypets,” she meowed blandly, already expecting a jeer. “Left when we were about six moons and became apprentices.”

There was a pause, and then the RiverClan molly beamed. “That’s so brave of you! I can’t imagine leaving my Da for anything.”

Emberpaw purred a laugh.

Her eyes caught on a black-and-white ShadowClan apprentice. He was small. She blinked, then mewed, “You’re small for an apprentice.”

The tom jumped, then stuttered out, “M-my Mama was small t-too.”

Emberpaw was going to press the matter, seeing how small other ShadowClan apprentices were, when she heard Bluestar’s yowl. She silenced herself, shutting her jaws with a _click_.

“Cats of all Clans, welcome,” she meowed clearly. “It is true that WindClan is not here, but Brokenstar wishes to speak anyway.”

A ragged tom with a broken tail padded forth, his orange eyes burning. She shivered-- that was a look of pure malice in his eyes. “Friends, I have come to speak to you about the needs of ShadowClan--”

“Where is WindClan?!”

“What has happened to Tallstar?!”

His thin coat bristled. “As leader of ShadowClan, it is my right to address you!”

At once, Fourtrees fell silent.

He yowled again. “We all know of the hard times of leaf-bare and late newleaf, and it has left us with little prey in our hunting grounds. I know that WindClan, ThunderClan, and RiverClan have lost many kits in the freezing weather!”

Sweetpaw shifted, her pelt prickling angrily. “Only _two_ ,” she hissed. 

“ShadowClan did not lose kits. We are hardened to the cold north wind, and our kits are stronger than yours. We find ourselves with many mouths to feed, and not enough prey to feed them.”

Emberpaw swore she could hear pelts rising with the anxiety in the gathered cats.

“Our needs are simple. In order to survive, we must increase our hunting territory, which is why we demand for other Clans to open their borders to allow ShadowClan to hunt there.”

A beat of silence. Then, chaos exploded. Cats screamed in protest, and the reek of fury permeated the clearing. Emberpaw’s own pelt was on end as she curled her lip in disgust. 

“ _Share_ our hunting grounds?” called the outraged voice of Tigerclaw.

“It is unprecedented!” a tortoiseshell molly from RiverClan protested, her tail lashing once. 

“Should ShadowClan be punished because our kits thrive?!” Brokenstar snarled from the Great Rock, ignoring the dagger-like stare he was receiving from Bluestar. “You _must_ share your hunting grounds with us!”

“ _Must_!” Smallear spat mockingly.

“Must,” Brokenstar growled. “WindClan failed to understand this. In the end, we were forced to drive them from their territory.”

Once again, silence ruled the clearing. Emberpaw’s mind _reeled_ \-- he drove WindClan away? _WindClan_? 

Crookedstar stood. “I have already accepted his terms.”

Again, the clearing exploded.

“We were not consulted!”

“Fish-pelted cowards!”

“And what of ThunderClan?!” Smallear snarled, standing.

Bluestar’s eyes were hard. “I have not made my decision. We will discuss this at a Clan meeting in the morning.”

The clearing was tense.

“I also come with a warning,” Brokenstar growled at last. “Some moons ago, we cast out a rogue from our Clan. She is highly dangerous, and until she is caught and killed, keep a close eye on your kits.”

 _Yellowfang_!

Emberpaw already saw how Speckletail was growling to Smallear, and how Tigerclaw’s pelt was raising.

“Sweetpaw--” she hissed, and her sister turned to look at her-- “I need to get back to camp. Make sure no one misses me.”

“Of course,” she agreed readily.

With that, Emberpaw stood, shaking out her crippled leg, and limped as fast as her paws could take her back to camp.

Sandpaw was on vigil, and she blinked slowly at Emberpaw as she hobbled up. “Back already?”

“Stall them,” she gasped. “Stall them-- they might kill Yellowfang without hearing her out!”

The pale she-cat’s eyes flashed with understanding. “Brokenstar said something about her.”

“He said a lot more than that!”

She limped through the tunnel and to the stump. Yellowfang raised her head, and an expression crossed her face that certainly did not belong there-- resignation. 

“You’re back so soon-- Brokenstar kept his promise.”

“What _promise_?” she hissed. 

“He would drive me out of all four Clans.”

There was a commotion at the entrance, and Emberpaw’s tail lashed. “Would you do it?”

“Would I _what_?”

“Would you hurt a kit?!”

“What?! No!”

“Then _run_! I can buy you some time--”

“Hush, kitty.” Yellowfang sat up, stretching out her legs. “These old bones can’t take me far. I’ll take my chances with Bluestar.”

“But--”

Darkstripe shoved past her. “Get back, kittypet!” he snarled as he grabbed Yellowfang by the scruff. Said molly snarled in protest.

“Mrr-r-row!” she yowled, trying to twist out of his grip. “Get off of me, you flea-pelt! I haven’t done anything!”

“The kits are safe!” she heard Frostfur yowl. “We got back in time!”

“Of course they are!” Emberpaw snarled in reply.

Ravenpaw appeared by her side. “You ran back here to warn her, didn’t you?” His violet eyes were soft with understanding.

She nodded. “I had to.”

“ _What_ are you doing with our prisoner?” Bluestar’s hiss drew her attention again.

Darkstripe dropped her roughly as Frostfur meowed in shock, “You’re not going to throw her out?”

“Throw her out?” the dark warrior snarled in reply. “We should kill her now!”

“And _what_ has she done?” Their leader meowed icily. Emberpaw held her breath.

“Brokenstar said--”

“He only _said_ ,” she hissed, “that there was a rogue on the loose and we should watch out. And Yellowfang has done nothing to us. As long as she is in ThunderClan, Yellowfang will _not_ be harmed in any way.”

Yellowfang straightened, licking her scruff as she shot an indignant look at Darkstripe. Emberpaw hurried to her side and began helping sort out the snarled put there by the warrior’s teeth. 

“I will leave if you wish it, Bluestar,” Yellowfang mewed, surprisingly respectful and lacking all of her usual bite.

“There is no need,” the blue-gray leader responded, her eyes flashing. “You have done nothing wrong, so you are safe here.”

The black-furred apprentice knew she was thinking of what Yellowfang said in the apprentice den, all that time ago. Still, Emberpaw guided Yellowfang back to the stump, leaning on her just as the old molly leaned on Emberpaw, and helped her settle back down.

“Thank you, kitty,” she meowed, still shockingly tame. “You didn’t have to run back here, but you did.”

“You’re my friend.” Emberpaw blinked, surprising even herself with the truth of the words. “I have to keep an eye out for all of my friends.”

Yellowfang purred, and with one last moment of companionable silence hanging between them, Emberpaw limped back to the apprentice den.

As soon as she came in, she sat down in the big nest she shared with Ravenpaw and Sweetpaw. Dustpaw was looking at her curiously, and she nodded silently. 

All six apprentices waited in tense silence until nothing but the sounds of sleep ruled the camp.

Emberpaw raised her tail slightly, and the others looked at her. The unspoken agreement to talk still hung heavily in the den, and she slowly stood.

“We can’t talk here,” she hissed urgently. 

Sandpaw stood up, her eyes questioning. “There’s an old badger set hidden by yew bushes in the gorge. We could sneak out through the dirtplace and head there, it’s big enough for all of us.” Her voice was equally quiet.

Ravenpaw nodded, and one by one, they slipped out of camp and followed Sandpaw.

Longtail was sitting vigil, and the apprentices all froze, silently hoping he would look away. Minutes ticked by, and then he looked their way with an amused expression.

“I can smell you over there. I know you all want to gossip privately, I won’t tell.”

Bravely, Emberpaw asked, “Not even Darkstripe or Tigerclaw?”

He blinked pensievely. “As long as you don’t come back stinking of ShadowClan, I’ll keep my mouth shut. I swear it on Silverpelt’s light.”

There was a collective, relieved sigh, and the apprentices began following Sandpaw again to the gorge. Sure enough, the dark-leafed bushes in the gorge hid a hole smelling faintly of something awful-- badger, Dustpaw quietly told her.

They squeezed in, and there was complete silence.

Then, Sweetpaw mewed, “Brokenstar is demanding we let ShadowClan hunt in ThunderClan territory, or else he will drive us out like he did with WindClan.”

The air soured, and Graypaw’s pelt fluffed out. “What? How _dare_ he?”

“And he implied that Yellowfang was a kit murderer,” the molly added, her light tabby pelt rippling with annoyance. “That’s what was happening.”

“Oh.” Sandpaw’s face fell. “Oh…”

“But she’s innocent?” Dustpaw’s eyes scrunched up in his confusion. “Emberpaw told us Brokenstar blamed her for something he did…”

“So he must have been the one to kill kits?” Ravenpaw’s voice was small.

The black molly’s tail twitched. “That’s not all… Ravenpaw, Sweetpaw, did you see the apprentices?”

“I… yeah?” Sweetpaw tilted her head.

“They were so small. _All_ of them. And… some of them had really fluffy ears.”

Sandpaw gasped, and Dustpaw sat rigid. Graypaw snarled lowly, his amber eyes flashing, and Ravenpaw reeled back. Sweetpaw physically stumbled.

“He’s training _kits_ .” The pale she-cat’s voice was small as she spoke, green eyes full of terror. “Oh, StarClan. He’s _training kits_.”

There were many heartbeats of silence before Dustpaw stood, his pelt prickling. “And myself, Ravenpaw, and Emberpaw need to tell you something.”

All eyes shifted to him, and he swallowed visibly.

“After the battle with RiverClan, Emberpaw was panicking. She had warned Oakheart about the falling rocks in time to get him out of the way, but she was upset because she was almost too late.”

“You didn’t tell me about that,” Sweetpaw meowed, her eyes softening as she looked at her sister. Emberpaw didn’t meet her gaze.

“Ravenpaw dragged us into a bush so he could calm her down, and I’m not sure why he brought me, but I’m… I’m glad he did. Because we watched the fighting end, and Redtail--” he took a shuddering breath. “Redtail was talking to Tigerclaw, and he said, ‘Oakheart really did a number on me,’ and then, ‘I really need to get to Spottedleaf.’”

“And Tigerclaw said, ‘You won’t make it.’” Emberpaw continued the story in a small voice. “Redtail saw us in the brush, and he was about to say something, but--” she choked on a burning clot in her throat. “But Tigerclaw _leapt_ on him.”

“He tore deeper into the wound on his throat,” Ravenpaw finished. “And we watched the light die in Redtail’s eyes. Since then, we’ve been terrified that if we ever told anyone.. Tigerclaw would kill us, too.”

The next morning, Emberpaw blinked blearily up at Highrock. 

“I will be going to the Moonstone,” Bluestar meowed. “And with me, I will take Lionheart, Runningwind, Graypaw, and Sweetpaw.”

Graypaw’s eyes brightened as he leaned towards the non-Clanborn cats. “The Moonstone is where medicine cats go to speak with StarClan, and where leaders are named and get their nine lives!”

“How?” Emberpaw tilted her head curiously. 

“It’s super secret!”

“We leave at sunhigh,” Bluestar continued. “The named cats should gather at the medicine den.”

Sweetpaw and Graypaw peeled away from Emberpaw, and Ravenpaw and Sandpaw quickly replaced them. 

“Wow, they get to go to the _Moonstone_ ,” Sandpaw mewed enviously. “That’s just so _cool_. Nobody but medicine cats and leaders ever go there to share dreams with StarClan.”

“Lucky,” Ravenpaw agreed, his tail flicking. 

Lionheart was standing next to Highrock. “Tigerclaw, take your apprentice and choose two or three other cats to go on dawn patrol with you.”

The massive warrior’s eyes cut through the crowd. “Dustpaw, Longtail, and Darkstripe.”

The five exited camp silently, and only Sandpaw and Emberpaw remained in camp with a pawful of warriors. All in all, the day dragged by slowly; they left once for sunhigh patrol with their mentors. By sunset, the four remaining apprentices all settled in the clearing, watching the other cats anxiously. Tigerclaw was out again on sunset patrol with Willowpelt and Darkstripe. Mosuefur and Whitestorm were out hunting. 

Goldenflower was stretched out in front of the nursery-- she hadn’t yet begun to show, but she was expecting. Frostfur was herding her own kits around-- Cinderkit and Brackenkit were pretty rowdy for being two moons old.

Brindleface’s sides were swollen, as Spottedleaf had happily predicted four kits. Speckletail, kitless yet still the queen of the nursery, was contentedly sharing tongues with her.

Longtail was settled next to the gaggle of apprentices, his tail flicking. “I wonder when Bluestar will come back?”

“I dunno.” Sandpaw’s green eyes were barely half open as she replied. “Maybe by dawn? I’m thinking sunhigh tomorrow.”

“Probably,” Dustpaw agreed. “Don’t you have to go across WindClan territory to get there?”

“Ugh, all the way to Highstones,” the pale tabby mewed, stretching out.

“What’s Highstones?” Emberpaw blinked sleepily.

“They’re the jagged rocks you can see on the horizon.” Sure enough, as she craned her neck, Emberpaw could see the serrated teeth in the distance. “The Moonstone is in a cave there.”

Ravenpaw hummed in response, and Emberpaw only sighed. 

Just then, her pelt prickled. She sat up slowly, amber eyes flicking back in forth. Her tail twitched once, and Ravenpaw scrambled to his paws. “What’s wrong?”

The scent of garlic hung heavy in the air, wafting from nowhere, and Emberpaw stared into the darkness beyond the bramble wall. 

Hateful eyes stared back.

Her jaws parted. “ _ShadowClan! ShadowClan is attacking!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deadass I started working on Fire and Ice not even a week ago but I’m already half done. Someone needs to stop me.


	6. Into the Wild: IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of Into the Wild: Rewritten.
> 
> The battle has begun, but even when it’s over, the war hasn’t ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am well aware Into the Wild isn’t this short. In my defense, I’m putting an entire arc into one book.  
> I’m about two-thirds if the way through Fire and Ice, so don’t worry about not getting regular updates.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: This rewrite is a way for me to refine my writing style and work on writing on deadlines, plus keeping a consistent plot with good characters. This is “just” a side project for me, but I really appreciate any constructive criticism that can help me improve! I’ve loved the Warriors novels for a good long while, and this is honestly really fun to do, and it’s an honor to me that so many of you enjoy it.

The first cat exploded through the brambles and leapt at Dustpaw, who was still off-balance as he stood. Emberpaw was faster, using her small size to her advantage and launching into the warrior’s legs in a blur of black fur and righteous fury. 

The warrior, a dark tabby, went down in a tangle of claws and spat at her, his eyes narrowed into slits.

Without a second thought, Emberpaw raked her claws across his nose and snarled, her own pupils barely claw-scratches in her burning amber eyes. She bared her teeth only heartbeats before she dug them into the enemy warrior’s throat, feeling her fangs rip deep but not fatally so.

The warrior thrashed, throwing her off and running back from whence he came, and Emberpaw took a moment to survey the camp.

They were brutally outnumbered, but the ThunderClan cats were fighting with the power of StarClan. Frostfur was snarling in front of the nursery, grappling with a scarred brown tom as Speckletail was pinning a silver tabby tom like she had never given up her warrior life to rule the nursery. The elders were even out, Rosetail in the nursery with her pale ginger tail straight up in the air as she stood over Frostfur’s kits. Smallear and Dappletail wrestled a tom while One-eye shredded a molly battling Spottedleaf.

Of course, the apprentices were in the heart of it as more ShadowClan cats appeared, filing in from the broken barrier and throwing themselves into the battle. 

Emberpaw snarled, lunging forward and ripping into a tortoiseshell molly pinning Ravenpaw and raking her claws down her flank. The tortoiseshell hissed and released Ravenpaw, turning to Emberpaw with her tail lashing.

It was then that Emberpaw saw the massive white warrior behind the nursery. She recognized him from the Gathering-- ShadowClan’s deputy, Blackfoot. He had one kit in his grasp and was reaching for another-- Rosetail lay dead in the nest as the kits wailed.

She began to run for them, but the tortoiseshell intercepted her, slamming her into the ground. Emberpaw bit back a yowl of pain and went limp. It worked with Yellowfang, and it worked now-- the tortoiseshell’s grip loosened as she lunged forward to sink her fangs into Emberpaw’s throat, but she kicked upwards and directly into the tortoiseshell’s soft underbelly, throwing her off with some effort. Longtail fell on her, and Emberpaw ran to the nursery.

To her great shock, _ Yellowfang _ was going toe-to-toe with the deputy, hissing and spitting as she snatched the kit from his grasp before slashing her claws deep into his shoulder. “Go, I’ll handle this fox-hearted coward!” she spat.

Deciding to trust Yellowfang was easy, she decided as she turned, lifting her bad paw to her chest as she ran full-pelt to where Spottedleaf was supporting One-eye, as her face was severely cut up.

“Rosetail is dead!” she panted, pressing on One-eye’s other side to assist her medicine cat. “Yellowfang is defending the nursery.”

“The expecting queens?” Spottedleaf mewed urgently.

“Frostfur and Dappletail are shredding any warrior that gets close to them,” she promised, guiding One-eye into a nest before darting back out and leaping towards a tiny apprentice that was trying to maul Smallear and not getting very far. She grabbed him by the scruff and practically threw him aside, her fur bristling. “Get your littermates and go home! This is no place for a kit!”

The apprentice-- the  _ kit _ \-- stared at her with wide eyes before darting back into the fray. To her relief, he was gathering other apprentices and running out.

There was a caterwaul, and none other than Bluestar, flanked by Runningwind and Lionheart, ran into the clearing. 

Emberpaw’s claws itched to dig into someone’s flank, but she glanced back at Spottedleaf. “I’ll get the wounded and dead,” she meowed with more confidence than she felt and slipped into the wailing, screaming cats.

The first she found was Dustpaw. He was locked in combat with a gray tom, whom Emberpaw sank her teeth into and ripped away from her friend. Dustpaw was bleeding heavily from the scruff. “To Spottedleaf! Now!” she spat, and the other apprentice nodded hesitantly before running to the medicine den.

After a quick check, Emberpaw limped to the nursery, stretching out her leg before she lifted Rosetail’s body, her heart as heavy as the elder’s body. Yellowfang was fussing over the kits, thankfully, and Emberpaw turned and dragged Rosetail away.

She set the elder near Yellowfang’s stump, and surveyed the crowd again, crouching low as to avoid drawing attention.

In the very thick of things, a golden warrior was fighting off a trio of ShadowClan warriors. His pelt rippled as he pinned one down and swiped at the other, but he was too slow to stop the third-- the third being none other than Brokenstar himself.

Brokenstar’s teeth sank deep into his throat and jerked away just as quickly. Emberpaw’s jaws opened to scream, but nothing came out as his magnificent mane dyed itself red with his own blood. He gasped for air that wouldn’t come, and collapsed to the ground.

She launched herself across the clearing and hooked her bad leg around Brokenstar’s throat as she balanced on his back, sinking her claws deep into his pelt to keep a grip. He bucked, but she began to rake her claws up and down his flank, hissing and spitting the whole way. 

He rolled over, and she let go with a snarl as his claws cut open a wound on the side of her neck. It hurt worse than an infected bee sting, but she shook away crimson droplets and launched herself at him again, batting him in the eye with her bad paw and using her good forepaw to dig her claws into his throat, tearing upwards.

The battle silenced as he wailed in pain, collapsing and convulsing. Emberpaw stared at him-- he was in so much pain.

_ But he deserved it, _ her mind whispered.

His body stilled, and the clearing was silent. Moments passed, and after what had to be hours, Brokenstar sat up, his throat no longer slit, and he  _ snarled _ at Emberpaw.

“Insolent apprentice,” he growled. “Retreat!”

ShadowClan cats followed him away, vanishing through the broken barriers. Sweetpaw was at her side in heartbeats.

“You killed him.” It wasn’t a question.

Her body began to shake, and her claws dug into the blood-slicked grass.  _ You’re no better than Tigerclaw, _ Emberpaw’s mind hissed, and her pelt prickled, feat catching her breath and stuttering her heart. 

A horrible wail cut through her thoughts like a claw through water. “Lionheart!  _ Lionheart! _ ”

_ Graypaw. _

_ You could have saved him _ , her mind snarled.  _ You could have helped. You could have jumped in and traded your worthless life for his. Look at what you’ve done, kittypet! _

A tongue rasped over her ear, and she jumped. The kind, motherly eyes of her medicine cat were studying her face. “Did you strain your shoulder at all?” Spottedleaf mewed gently.

She shook her head jerkily, and her amber eyes rested on the bloodstained golden pelt of her deputy.

_ You watch every deputy die, don’t you? And it’s always your fault! You’re cursed! _

“I could have saved him,” she meowed, voice cracking halfway through.

The tortoiseshell’s tail rested on her shoulders. “StarClan called for him, Emberpaw. There was nothing you could do.”

_ But it was your fault, wasn’t it? _

The waning moon watched over ThunderClan. All had gathered beneath the Highrock, even the queens and kits, to silently mourn. The bodies of Rosetail and Lionheart lay in the clearing, bathed in the silver light. Bluestar stood with them, her face raised to the stars that cast her silver-tinged face in an eerie glow.

“Oh, Lionheart,” she murmured, and Emberpaw had to strain to hear over Graypaw’s sniffles. “What am I going to do without you?”

She dipped her head low, murmuring into the golden fur. Her fur was still matted with blood despite the hours that had passed since the battle, and Emberpaw had never seen her leader so utterly defeated. 

She slowly rose, and padded over to the Highrock, climbing up unsteadily. Her grief-stricken expression hit a chord in Emberpaw’s chest-- if only she had been faster, her leader would not be like this.

“It is nearly moonhigh,” she meowed softly. “And it is my duty-- much, much too soon-- to name ThunderClan’s new deputy.”

A chill ran under her fur, and Emberpaw found herself drawing closer to the other apprentices, burying herself in Sweetpaw’s chest fur. She didn’t want to hear the inevitable. She  _ couldn’t _ . Dustpaw whimpered beside her, and the six apprentices grouped together, a fear not shared by their Clanmates hovering between them.

Bluestar took a deep breath, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I say these words before the body of Lionheart, so that his spirit may hear and approve my choice. Tigerclaw will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.”

As the dark tabby stood, a smug look on his face and malice in his eyes, he dipped his head, Emberpaw muffled a sob of fear. She didn’t know what Tigerclaw’s endgame was, but it would not be with Bluestar alive. The thought of Tigerclaw as her leader-- it felt like a cold, terrible paw gripping her heart and constricting as her Clan chanted his name.

“Graypaw,” the gray apprentice froze, raising his amber gaze to meet his leader’s. “Your new mentor will be Longtail.”

The two touched noses, silent and morose.

“Yellowfang, you fought for ThunderClan. As leader, I formally extend an invitation for you to join my Clan.”

The old molly blinked, apparently surprised. “It would be an honor.”

Bluestar dipped her head. “And there is one last ceremony I must complete.”

All eyes shifted to her, curious and apprehensive.

“Three apprentices fought tooth and claw to protect this Clan, battling every one of the odds. Though the fourth fought with them and did just as well… she is too young.” Emberpaw dipped her head, feeling pride spark through her chest. She locked eyes with Ravenpaw, and his own eyes, though terrified, were as proud as she felt. 

“Sandpaw, Dustpaw, and Ravenpaw, step forward.”

The three apprentices separated from their huddle, and the Clan parted, allowing the three to stand in the center. They craned their necks to meet Bluestar’s gaze. 

“I, Bluestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn. Sandpaw, Dustpaw, Ravenpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”

“I do,” Sandpaw meowed firmly, and the two toms echoed her with equal determination.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names.” Bluestar climbed down, and the Clan watched in trepidation. “Sandpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Sandstorm. StarClan honors your skill and wisdom, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

Sandstorm bowed her head as Bluestar rested her chin on it, and respectfully licked the leader’s shoulder. Bluestar drew away, her lips moving in a silent murmur Emberpaw couldn’t catch.

“Dustpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Dustpelt. StarClan honors your dedication and drive, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

The process repeats, until finally, Ravenpaw is the only one left.

“Ravenpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Ravenflight. StarClan honors your intelligence and loyalty, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

“Sandstorm! Dustpelt! Ravenflight! Sandstorm! Dustpelt! Ravenflight!” Emberpaw raised her rough voice above the din, yowling as loudly as she could in support of her friends. When they turned back to the three remaining apprentices, their eyes shining with delight, Ravenflight’s eyes met Emberpaw’s, and she felt her chest warm under his proud gaze. Ravenflight was a  _ warrior _ now.

“The warrior den will feel less empty now, huh?” she heard Whitestorm purr, and her stomach sank a bit.

Ravenflight was a warrior now. They wouldn’t curl into a tangle of limbs with her fur going halfway down his throat if he yawned, tucked into Sweetpaw’s chest and hearing her steady heartbeat in tandem with her own.

Her heart ached, but she cheered anyway.

Two moons passed quickly. The Gatherings were tense and hostile, and also short; Bluestar just gave her report and took the Clan back to camp.

Darkstripe was her full-time guard, much to Emberpaw’s disdain-- she knew the dark-furred warrior was utterly loyal to Tigerclaw. But she held her tongue. 

Her warrior assessments were coming up, after all. She could barely wait to be a warrior-- she and Sweetpaw spend hours bouncing possible names off of each other. It was as exciting as it was nerve-wracking, no matter  _ what _ Ravenflight told her about them being simple. 

“Sweetfang,” she suggested tiredly. 

“That sounds dumb,” her littermate retorted playfully. “Maybe you’ll have something like Embershort or Embertiny.”

“That’s awful, thanks,” Emberpaw snorted in return. 

It was an awful day; there had been a steady downpour all morning, so Sweetpaw and Emberpaw had curled up in the shelter of the Highrock to share tongues in their short break before sunhigh patrol.

They were interrupted by a shriek from the nursery. “My kits! My _ kits _ !” Frostfur was outside the nursery, her eyes wide with distress. Bluestar hurried over, her own eyes widening. Emberpaw sat up, the fur along her spine rising as she twitched her tail, bounding towards the distressed queen.

“Frostfur-- what happened?” Bluestar asked urgently.

“They’re  _ gone _ !” she wailed. “Vanished! Disappeared!”

A cold stone settled in Emberpaw’s belly as she recalled Blackfoot trying to steal the kits only two moons before. She slipped past Frostfur, faintly hearing Sweetpaw trying to console her, and nosed over to Frostfur’s nest.  _ Please just have wandered off…  _

The scent of garlic hit her nose, and she growled in displeasure. She sniffed deeper, and found the source; a gap torn in the nursery wall a cat could easily have snatched kits through. Pressing her nose to the brambles, she inhaled deeply.

Under the reek of garlic, there was the scent of swamp. Her lip curled as she reared up, staring through the hole in the wall. Her eye caught gray fur forcing through the fern wall. When she breathed again, Yellowfang’s scent, soured with fear, hit her nose.  _ Why is Yellowfang so afraid _ ?

Emberpaw used her small size to her advantage, squeezing through the gap and leaping after the ancient molly. She ducked through the ferns, looking around wildly.

“Yellowfang! What’s--”

She was gone.

Instead, she was staring at Spottedleaf, who was sprawled out and lifeless. Her throat a mouse-length away from the rest of her body and eyes lifeless.

Someone screamed, high and loud and agonized. A flank pressed against hers, and she inhaled sharply-- only then did she realize  _ she _ had been the one wailing. Bluestar’s eyes were dark with grief, but they fixed on Emberpaw as she began to sob.

“Spottedleaf is dead!” she vaguely heard Tigerclaw call. All she could do was shake, her fear-scent souring the air as rain began to patter down from the sky.

“Yellowfang’s gone!” came Darkstripe’s reply, angry and sharp. “She must have taken the kits and killed Spottedleaf!”

_ No _ .  _ Yellowfang wouldn’t do this! _

Tigerclaw ran back into the camp, but Emberpaw was frozen, unable to move or speak or even breathe.

Bluestar knelt down.

“Emberpaw, listen to me.” Her mew was urgent, and the black apprentice turned her face to look at her leader, shaking abating for a moment. “Tigerclaw and Darkstripe and the others-- they won’t give Yellowfang a fair trial. You know Yellowfang best, and I’m so sorry I can’t give you time to grieve, but you need to find Yellowfang and get her side of the story. Take a patrol with you.”

“H-how many?” she stuttered.

“Two others, at maximum, or they'll notice.” Bluestar’s mew was firm. “Go. I’ll take care of Spottedleaf, I promise.”

“Thank you,” she choked out, and turned to run back into camp.

Sweetpaw was with her in an instant. “What happened? Are you--”

“P-please, don’t,” she managed, blinking hard to clear the tears from her eyes. “I can’t do it. Not now. Just-- just--”

“Emberpaw!” A familiar scent wreathed around her pelt as someone pressed against her firmly. “You need to lay down!”

“I’m-- no, I can’t.” Emberpaw shook her head violently to clear it, then met the concerned, sad eyes of Ravenflight. “You two need to come with me. Bluestar needs me to find Yellowfang before Tigerclaw’s patrol does.”

“Me?” he jumped. “Why not Graypaw?”

“Graypaw is still out hunting, there’s no time!” she snapped, grief giving way to irritation. “Let’s go, before the rain washes away the rest of her scent!”

Sweetpaw nodded resolutely, her tail swishing. “Then let’s go.”

Emberpaw shut her eyes and let her paws guide her as she brushed past the thorn barrier, ignoring her friend’s gasps as they no doubt saw Bluestar carrying Spottedleaf’s beaten corpse past. It was all she could do to not outright scream. Instead, she lowered her head and followed her nose.

Yellowfang’s scent was fading fast, so she picked up her pace until she was practically running through the undergrowth, her bad leg struggling to keep from buckling. It led in a mostly straight line, and then--

\-- the stench of the Thunderpath hit her.

“She was going into ShadowClan territory,” she realized aloud, her pelt prickling anxiously. 

“We should disguise our scents.” Ravenflight’s nervous voice made her jump-- she had nearly forgotten he and Sweetpaw were behind her! “There’s a path of wild garlic over there.” He nodded to a group of odd stalks among the sparse grass.

She frowned to herself as she rolled in it, letting the awful stink mask her. “At the nursery, I smelled ShadowClan. Maybe Yellowfang saw them and followed?”

“Maybe,” Sweetpaw agreed, and the three of them shrunk back as a monster roared past.

Ravenflight inhaled deeply, then set his forepaws on the black rock. After a moment, he nodded. “It’s safe.”

The three bolted over, just as the eyes of another monster cut through the gloom. The grass on the other side felt gross under her paws, and she shuddered. ShadowClan stink was  _ everywhere _ here. Still, she breathed in until she could pick out Yellowfang’s trail and followed it again.

They walked for ages until Ravenflight hissed audibly, his ears pinning close to his skull. “Smell that?”

“Kit blood.”

Yellowfang’s voice made Emberpaw jump, and she looked around wildly until she spotted the old molly grouched by a decaying log. Sweetpaw sniffed. “Yeah… the kits must have gotten hurt.”

“Did you take them?” Emberpaw asked urgently, ignoring her littermate. Yellowfang blinked at her calmly. 

“No. But I know who did-- Clawface.”

“And Spottedleaf?”

“What about Spottedleaf?” Yellowfang’s ears pricked. “She’s not involved in this, I can promise you that--”

“She’s dead,” Ravenflight meowed solemnly, and then looked over the log. “There will be time to grieve later. What’s the plan?”

The gray she-cat seemed frozen, and slowly, she sagged under the weight of the grief. Nonetheless, she pushed onwards. “Clawface would have taken the kits to the camp. Alone, we stand no chance of getting them back. But I know some things. Like how Brokenstar has been forcing the elders and the sick off to a secondary camp to care for themselves.”

“What?” Sweetpaw gasped, her tail lashing. “That’s horrible!”

“I know,” she meowed gravely. “I will go to find them. You three stay here, and I’ll be back with them soon. They will certainly fight with us-- they hate Brokenstar as much as we do.”

Yellowfang slipped away, vanishing into the rain-sodden swamp like she had always belonged there. And maybe she did, Emberpaw thought with a pang. She was born in ShadowClan, after all.

A white tom leading a group of other cats was barely visible through the curtains of rain, and Emberpaw stood. “Look. That must be the ThunderClan patrol.”

Sure enough, Whitestorm drew closer, his golden eyes fogging with confusion. “What are you three doing here?”

“Bluestar sent me to find Yellowfang. I brought them, so blame me if you want,” Emberpaw meowed defensively as she pushed her way in front of her friends. “And Yellowfang’s innocent, it was a tom named Clawface who took the kits. She followed him. Right now, she’s off getting help from some ShadowClan cats that oppose Brokenstar.”

The white tom stared at her for a long moment, long enough for her to take in the rest of the patrol. Longtail, Sandstorm, Dustpelt, and Willowpelt-- a good set. Sandstorm dipped her head when she noticed Emberpaw watching her.

Then, he purred. “Well, I guess I know what Bluestar meant when she said I might find a few friends out here.”

“More than a few!” Again, Yellowfang’s mew startled Emberpaw, and she purred as she saw Yellowfang approaching, a gang of sickly cats behind her. “And I brought some friends, too.”

A painfully thin black tom slipped in front of her. “I am Nightpelt,” he meowed gruffly. Without preamble, he dove into planning. “Brokenstar rules through fear alone-- he forces kits to be apprentices and then warriors far before they’re ready. Most of the Clan despises him, and if they had the chance to drive him out, they would do so in a heartbeat. There is a small group that is utterly loyal to him, though, but they will be the only real opposition.”

Whitestorm rolled his shoulders. “Let’s get going, then.”

The camp was shockingly large for only a pawful of cats-- even less than the cats of ThunderClan. Brokenstar was lounging on flat rock in the center of the camp, and a gaggle of lean cats surrounded him, their eyes gleaming with hate. 

The nursery was guarded by Blackfoot, who was rail-thin in comparison to how he was before. Gone was the gloss of his snow-white pelt; instead, it was matted and dirty. 

Emberpaw shifted, tucking her paws under her chest and glaring into the camp. True to Nightpelt’s word, most of the cats shot wary and fearful looks at Brokenstar and his group. If they could turn the tide… their victory was assured. 

Whitestorm stood, his jaws parting. “ _ Attack _ !”

His yowl made Blackfoot jump, his fur spiking, and back away. Emberpaw slid under the bramble barrier and leapt at him, her lips curled in a feral snarl. The tom’s eyes went wide, and she collided with him harshly. Scrabbling her claws, she latched onto his chest and sank her teeth into the ShadowClan warrior’s throat. He yowled in pain, and shook violently. She was rather rudely thrown off, and then scrambled upwards again as his paw hit her solidly in the bad shoulder. It gave, and she grunted, expecting it to collapse under her, and turned her fall into a roll, hopping up on Blackfoot’s other side and jumping onto his shoulders, using her small size to keep him from grabbing her as she dug her claws in deep.

Eventually, the tom shook her off and bolted away, his tail between his legs as he ran through the tunnel and out of his own camp. She hissed in satisfaction, turning to look into the nursery. A wrecked nest badly hid a hole in the ground, and she clawed it out of the way-- as the light pooled in the hole, four kits were revealed. 

A golden-brown tabby tomkit stared up at her, his eyes terrified. “Thund’rCl’n?” he mewed pitifully. “Mama?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I’m ThunderClan. Emberpaw. Your mama is very scared for you…”

Claws raked her side, and she hissed in surprise, turning to stare at a tortoiseshell she-cat. The same one from before. 

“Rematch, huh?” she growled, then headbutted her in the nose. The molly backed away, hissing, and Emberpaw lashed out again, raking her claws down her cheek. “We’re going to win this,” she panted. “Brokenstar will be driven out!”

The tortoiseshell shook her head violently. “He will kill you.” Her voice wavered, and Emberpaw flexed her claws in return. “You’re just a runt of an apprentice.”

“This runt of an apprentice already ripped out one of his horrible lives,” she hissed. “Fight with us! We can win!”

Her eyes were hesitant, but hope sparked in them. “Clawface was the one who killed your medicine cat,” she meowed, glancing over her shoulder. “She got him pretty bad, he should be in the medicine den with Fleetwhisker right now, but Brokenstar has him fighting. Take him out in front of the Clan, they’ll probably follow you.”

Fleetwhisker must be the medicine cat. Emberpaw nodded, and asked the she-cat, “Can you defend the kits?”

“Of course,” she meowed readily. “Brokenstar forced my kit to be an apprentice when he was weaned… he was killed in the WindClan raid. He was three moons old.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she mewed solemnly. “I will make sure his loss will not go unrecognized.”

“Thank you. What’s your name, apprentice?”

“Emberpaw.”

“I am Fernshade.” The molly’s tail swished. “Go, I’ll watch the kits.”

With that, Emberpaw dipped her head and ran out of the nursery, leaping back into the fray, fighting side-by-side with a familiar brown tabby molly. 

“Where were you?” Sweetpaw grunted as she wrestled aside a silver tom. Boulder, she recalled as she clawed his ears harshly to help her littermate.

“Recruiting. Fernshade is defending the kits,” she growled in return, and then swung her head around. “Clawface. Where is he?”

“Beside Brokenstar,” she gasped, and Emberpaw nodded, tucking her bad paw to her chest and running into the throng of wrestling cats.

It took no time at all to find Brokenstar-- he and Yellowfang were locked in a deadly dance. She didn’t dare jump in, afraid of getting killed by those precise blows being traded. Instead, she locked her amber gaze on a brown, scarred tom that was pinning down Ravenflight.

This was the fox-heart that killed Spottedleaf, and he  _ dared _ to lay a claw on her best friend?! Her vision went red as she leapt over Brokenstar and Yellowfang, forgetting her inhibitions as she used Brokenstar’s shoulders as a launching point to catapult onto Clawface’s back, hooking her claws into his disgusting fur and digging her teeth into his scruff, yanking back. He bucked in surprise, and she kept pulling, refusing to let Ravenflight’s throat be ripped out by this horrid cat.

She forced her bad paw to loop around his throat and constrict, and she released his scruff with a snarl.She bared her fangs, rearing back.

Before she could deal the death blow, Whitestorm grabbed her and hauled her away, then slashed Clawface’s face violently, sending the tom screaming into the bushes.

“I know how you feel, I know you’re angry,” Whitestorm panted, his eyes flickering with sympathy. “But Clan cats don’t kill unless they must.”

“Brokenstar--”

“-- he was a special case,” he interrupted. “It was the only way to finish the battle as fast as we did.”

An angry screech interrupted Emberpaw’s thoughts, and she saw Yellowfang pinning Brokenstar down with muddy, bloodstained claws. His body bled from slashes all over his flank, and his ears were pinned flat against his skull. He writhed beneath Yellowfang’s powerful grip. 

“I never thought you would be harder to kill than my father!” he snarled up at his exiled medicine cat.

Her amber eyes blew wide open, and she recoiled as if she had been stung by a wasp. Her face twisted in shock and hate and grief as she loosened her grip on Brokenstar. In a heartbeat, he shoved her aside with a single, powerful twist. 

“ _ You _ killed Brokenstar?!” she wailed, disbelieving. 

Brokenstar eyes her coldly, contempt twisting his snout into a snarl. “You found his body. Didn’t you recognize my fur between his claws?” Emberpaw froze in horror, staring at the tyrant as he continued. “He was a weak and foolish leader. He  _ deserved _ to die!”

“No cat but  _ you _ deserves to die like that, having their lives picked off one by one in the dark!” Yellowfang snarled, her pelt spiking again and hate overcoming any other emotion on her face. She looked furiously at Brokenstar, her tail lashing as they circled each other. “And what of Mintkit and Marigoldkit?! Did they deserve to die too?”

Brokenstar growled lowly and hurled himself at Yellowfang, forcing her onto her belly. Yellowfang, shockingly, didn’t even struggle. In her eyes was nothing but infinite sadness. “Those kits were  _ weak _ . If I didn’t kill them, some other Clan’s warrior would have!”

A horrible wail rose from the throng, a sound of pure anguish from a black-and-white molly. Brokenstar ignored her, but his ears twitched in clear discomfort. 

“I should have killed  _ you _ when I had the chance! It seems I have my father’s softness! I was a fool to let you leave ShadowClan ali--”

“You have  _ nothing _ of your father!” Yellowfang roared, her fight flooding back at once, and Brokenstar reared back, his jaws parting to bury his teeth into her throat.

Emberpaw’s legs moved on their own, and she latched onto his back, again looping her paw around his throat like she had for Clawface. With a snarl, Brokenstar threw her off as a mother would with insolent kits. 

“You!” the tyrant snarled. “Don’t waste your time,  _ apprentice _ ! I’ve shared dreams with StarClan! You would have to kill me nine times to--”

“Eight.” Her voice was flat and cold. “At most? Eight. And I’ve already ripped out your throat once. I’ll do it again.”

Brokenstar’s eyes glowed with fury, and Emberpaw swallowed hard. What was she doing? This was a Clan leader, and she was openly challenging him to a deathmatch in which he would surely come out on top!

And yet, he was battered and half-starved, his pelt matted. Brokenstar was outnumbered. Emberpaw saw the understanding down on him as he surveyed the battlefield, which had gone still to watch the confrontation.

“This isn’t over, runt,” he growled, backing away. Yellowfang rose to her paws, snarling, as he turned and left, his group limping after him.

Whitestorm released a breath next to Emberpaw, and she did, too, suddenly aware of how she had held it. “Do we go after them?”

“No,” he meowed solemnly. “They got the message that they are not welcome here.”

Nightpelt limped up, nodding in agreement. “Leave them. If they dare show their sorry faces again, ShadowClan will be strong enough to rip them to shreds.”

A solid gray tom with a torn ear padded over, his eyes dark with worry. “Have any of you seen my mate, Fernshade?”

“I have,” Emberpaw meowed hurriedly, and led him to the nursery. The tortoiseshell was huddled over the hole, her eyes wary. Then, they lit up. “Wolfstep!”

“Fernshade,” he purred in delight, and they touched noses gently. “It’s over.”

“Are the kits safe?” Emberpaw mewed urgently. Fernshade blinked at her calmly. 

“Of course.”

A black-and-white tom padded in, and blinked slowly at the kits. “Are they all okay?”

“Mostly,” Fernshade meowed, just as the apprentice blinked. 

“You’re Runningnose, right?”

The medicine cat sighed. “Fleetwhisker, actually.”

“Then why does everyone call you Runningnose?” Emberpaw questioned the tom, tilting her head slightly. “It seems rude.”

“It  _ is _ ,” Fleetwhisker agreed. “After Yellowfang was exiled, Brokenstar renamed me to mock me further, because he thought I was a fluff-brained medicine cat. Just call me Fleetwhisker, I’m sure our new leader will be fine with naming me Fleetwhisker again officially… whoever that may be.”

Sweetpaw, Ravenflight, and Yellowfang came in behind her as she lifted the kits out, one by one. “The amber-eyed tabby looks hurt, Yellowfang, can you look at him?”

“I can,” the old molly agreed, and began to nose the kit gently. “Just superficial wounds, he’s okay.”

“Good.” The last kit she lifted out was the color of ash, and blinked up at her with clear blue eyes before mewing, curling into her chest fur. Emberpaw looked at her warily as Ravenflight purred in amusement. “How… how do queens deal with kits?”

The question sent Ravenflight into a fit, wheezing for air as he laughed. “Emberpaw!”

“What!?”

Bluestar’s eyes shone as the Clan was gathered beneath her. With tears or pride, or both, Emberpaw didn’t know. Spottedleaf’s body lay out in the center of them all. 

“Yellowfang.” The old molly lifted her head. “ThunderClan is left without a medicine cat. Will you honor our Clan and take Spottedleaf’s place?”

Yellowfang’s amber eyes widened, and Emberpaw nudged her gently. “I would be honored to serve your Clan as a medicine cat, Bluestar.”

“Thank you.” Bluestar dipped her head, and then turned her eyes back to Spottedleaf. 

Emberpaw broke away from the group and bowed her head over Spottedleaf’s body. Her throat was hidden by flowers and leaves. As she would have wanted. Her mew was soft. “You reminded me of my mother. Thank you for everything, Spottedleaf. May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.” Tears gathered in her eyes as she meowed the blessing Ravenflight had taught her, and sat down beside the molly she had come to consider as a second mother.

Sweetpaw pressed close to her and then padded away, vanishing into the apprentice’s den. Only a few cats stayed out, sitting in a silent vigil. Spottedleaf’s personal friends. When dawn came, Emberpaw trudged to the den and fell fast asleep.

She woke at sunset, hearing Bluestar calling for a Clan meeting. She padded out, still exhausted despite her long sleep, and settled in between Sweetpaw and Ravenflight.

Bluestar’s eyes were settled on Emberpaw as she looked up, and she felt her pelt prickle with anxiety as her leader spoke.

“When Frostfur’s kits were stolen, two apprentices jumped into action and loyally tracked down Yellowfang to understand what happened. They united ShadowClan’s forces with ThunderClan’s to drive Brokenstar out and avenge Spottedleaf’s death, and retrieve the missing kits. And it is time to honor that.”

She bit back a yelp of surprise.

“Sweetpaw and Emberpaw, step forward.”

The two apprentices stood as one, Amberpaw’s tail wrapping around Sweetpaw’s hind leg for comfort as they stood before the Highrock and their leader.

“I, Bluestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn. Emberpaw, Sweetpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”

“I do,” Emberpaw replied, lifting her gaze to meet Bluestar’s as she had all those moons ago, defiant and determined. 

“I do,” Sweetpaw meowed, her tail lashing once with her excitement.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names.” Bluestar jumped down, in front of the two. “Sweetpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Sweetheart. StarClan honors your enthusiasm and strength, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

Sweetheart licked Bluestar’s shoulder as their leader rested her chin on her head. Emberpaw shivered, hearing the soft words spoken to Sweetheart by their leader. “I am proud to see you grow and mature, young one. One day you could fight Brokenstar one-on-one and win, I’m sure of it.”

Bluestar’s eyes cut to Emberpaw as she drew away.

“Emberpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Emberdawn.” The name sent a thrill down her spine, the pure feeling of how  _ right _ it was warming her to the core. “StarClan honors your courage and loyalty, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

Emberdawn dipped her head and licked Bluestar’s shoulder, delight washing over her. When she stepped back, she looked at the Clan…  _ her _ Clan.

“You have always been there for your Clanmates,” Bluestar murmured. “And though you were not my apprentice nor my kit, I feel as proud as a mother or mentor would, and I’m certain Spottedleaf would feel the same.”

The grief pierced her heart like a claw, but it slid away in favor of the voices swelling behind her. She gently parted from Bluestar to look over ThunderClan.

“Sweetheart! Emberdawn! Sweetheart! Emberdawn!” 

One yowl rose over the rest, and Emberdawn met Ravenflight’s eyes. Her heart felt lighter than it ever had, and she purred.

And when she met Tigerclaw’s eyes, knowing he was a murderer, she lifted her chin in defiance.

_ I know what you’ve done _ , she promised silently.  _ And you’ll never get away with it. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update will be a triple-update, with the allegiances, prologue, and first chapter of Fire and Ice, since I didn’t really tweak the prologue all that much. I basically just edited the language a bit but it’s almost word for word, and that’s boring.
> 
> Please leave comments. It feeds me.


	7. Fire and Ice: Allegiances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triple update of the Allegiances, Prologue, and Chapter 1!

**THUNDERCLAN**

_LEADER_

Bluestar - Blue-gray molly, tinged with silver around her muzzle.

_DEPUTY_

Tigerclaw - big dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws 

_MEDICINE CAT(S)_

Yellowfang - old dark gray she-cat with a broad, flat face

 _WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Whitestorm - big white tom 

Darkstripe - sleek black-and-gray tabby tom

Longtail - pale tabby tom with dark black stripes 

Runningwind - swift tabby tom 

Willowpelt - very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes

Mousefur - small dusky brown she-cat

Dustpelt - dark brown tabby tom

Ravenflight - small, skinny black-furred tom with a tiny white dash on his chest and white-tipped tail, violet eyes

Sandstorm - pale ginger she-cat

Sweetheart - light brown tabby she-cat with green eyes

Emberdawn - tiny black she-cat with amber eyes and a permanent limp in front-left leg 

APPRENTICES (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

Graypaw - long-furred gray tom with a dark gray stripe along his spine

 _QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Frostfur - beautiful white queen with blue eyes (Mother of Thornkit, Brackenkit, Cinderkit, and Brightkit)

Brindleface - pretty tabby queen

Goldenflower - pale ginger queen (Mother of Swiftkit)

Speckletail - pale tabby, the oldest queen

 _ELDERS_ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Halftail - big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing

Smallear - gray tom with very small ears

Patchpelt - small black-and-white tom

One-eye - pale gray molly, the oldest cat in Thunderclan. Virtually blind and deaf

Dappletail - once-pretty tortoiseshell molly with a lovely dappled coat

**SHADOWCLAN**

_LEADER_

Nightpelt - old black tom

_DEPUTY_

Cinderfur - thin gray tom

_MEDICINE CAT(S)_

Fleetwhisker - small gray-and-white tom

 _WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Stumpytail - brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, BROWNPAW

Littlecloud - very small tabby tom

Wetfoot - gray tabby tom APPRENTICE, OAKPAW

 _QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Dawncloud - small tabby queen

Brightflower - black-and-white queen

Darkflower - black queen

Tallpoppy - long-legged light brown tabby queen

 _ELDERS_ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Ashfur - thin gray tom

**WINDCLAN**

_LEADER_

Tallstar - black-and-white tom with a very long tail

_DEPUTY_

Deadfoot - black tom with a dead paw

_MEDICINE CAT(S)_

Barkface - short-tailed brown tom

 _WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Mudclaw - mottled dark brown tom APPRENTICE, WEBPAW

Tornear - tabby tom APPRENTICE, RUNNINGPAW

Onewhisker - young brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, WHITEPAW

 _QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Ashfoot - gray queen

Morningflower - tortoiseshell queen

**RIVERCLAN**

_LEADER_

Crookedstar - huge light-colored tabby with a twisted jaw

_DEPUTY_

Oakheart - reddish brown tom

_MEDICINE CAT(S)_

Mudfur - long-furred light brown tom

 _WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Leopardfur - unusually spotted black-and-golden tabby molly

Blackclaw - smoky black tom APPRENTICE, HEAVYPAW

Stonefur - gray tom with heavily scarred ears APPRENTICE, SHADEPAW

Loudbelly - dark brown tom APPRENTICE, SEALPAW

Silverstream - pretty slender silver tabby

Whiteclaw - dark tom with white legs and underbelly

**CATS OUTSIDE CLANS**

_KITTYPETS_

Smudge - plump and friendly black-and-white tom

Hattie - little brown tabby kitten with amber eyes

_LONERS_

Barley - black-and-white tom who lives on a farm close to the forest

_ROGUES_

Brokenstar - long-furred dark brown tabby tom, formerly ShadowClan

Blackfoot - large white tom with jet-black paws, formerly ShadowClan

Clawface - heavily scarred brown tom, formerly ShadowClan

Boulder - silver tabby tom, formerly ShadowClan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love. Please love me


	8. Fire and Ice: Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WindClan’s fate.

Orange flames lapped at the cold air, throwing sparks up into the night sky. The firelight flickered across a wasteland of ragged grass, making silhouettes of the Twolegs huddled there.

A pair of white lides appeared in the distance, heralding the approach of a monster. It roared past on a Thunderpath that rose high into the sky, filling the air with its sour fumes and grating sounds.

At the edge of the wasteland, a cat moved, their eyes glinting in the shadows. Pointed ears twitched, then flattened to block out the terrible noise. More cats followed one by one, into the filthy grass. They carried their tails low and sniffed the bitter air with their lips curled and fur prickling. 

“What if the Twolegs see us?” hissed one of the cats.

A large tom answered, his eyes like amber disks reflecting the fire. “The won’t. Their night vision is weak.” As he padded forth, the flames lit up the black-and-white fur on his powerful shoulders, and his long tail held straight up, sending a message of courage to his Clan.

But the other cats crouched low in the grass, trembling in fear. This was a strange place. The noise of monsters battered their sensitive ears, and the acrid stench stung their nostrils. 

“Tallstar.” A gray queen flicked her tail uneasily. “Why have we come _here_?”

The leader turned to her. “We’ve been driven from every place we’ve tried to settle, Ashfoot. Perhaps we can find some peace here.”

“Peace? _Here_?” Ashfoot echoed disbelievingly, her ears flattening. She pulled her kit towards her, sheltering it in her belly fur. “With fire and Twolegs and monsters? My kits won’t be safe!”

“But we weren’t safe at home,” a new voice pointed out. A black tom pushed his way forward, limping heavily on a twisted paw. He held Tallstar’s solemn gaze. “We couldn’t protect them from ShadowClan-- not even our own camp!” he added with a snarl.

Anxious growls rose from the other cats, recalling the terrible battle that had driven them from their home in the moors on the edges of the forest. A young apprentice wailed, “Brokenstar and his warriors might still be hunting us!”

The cry alerted one of the Twolegs around the fire. It stood unsteadily, turning to the shadows and staring into them. At once the cats fell silent, even Tallstar lowering his tail. The Twoleg spat something and threw the object in his hand at them-- it missed, thankfully, but exploded into thorn-sharp pieces on the Thunderpath beyond them.

Ashfoor flinched as a shard grazed her shoulder, but she stayed silent, curling her body around her terrified kit.

“Keep down,” Tallstar hissed at the apprentice, who was shaking badly as he pressed himself to the ground.

The Twoleg spat on the ground before turning and sitting at the fire again. The cats waited for a few moments before Tallstar stood once more. Ashfoot stood too, wincing at the new pain in her shoulder. “Tallstar, I fear for our safety here. What will we eat? I can’t smell any prey.”

Tallstar stretched his neck and rested his muzzle gently on the worried queen’s head. “But we’ll be safer here than back in our old territory, or in the Twoleg fields and woods. Look at this place! Even ShadowClan wouldn’t follow us here. There’s no scent of dogs, and those Twolegs can hardly stand. Deadfoot,” He turned to the black tom, now speaking in an authoritative meow, “take Onewhisker and see if you can find anything to eat. If there are Twolegs, there must be rats.”

“Rats?” spat Ashfoot, her fur spiking. “They’re no better than crowfood!”

“Hush!” hissed a tortoiseshell beside her. “Rat meat is better than starving to death!”

In reply, Ashfoot scowled and dipped her head to bathe her kit’s matted ears, her own pinned back the whole time.

“We must find a new place to settle,” Ashfoot went on more tendly. “Morningflower needs to rest and eat, Her kits will be born soon. She needs to be strong.”

The lean shapes of Deadfoot and Onewhisker emerged from the shadows. “You were right, Tallstar,” Deadfoot called softly. “There are rat scents everywhere, and Onewhisker found somewhere he thinks we can make camp.”

“Show us,” Tallstar ordered, gathering the rest of WindClan with a flick of his tail. “The Clan needs to sleep.”

Cautiously, the cats padded across the wasteland after Onewhisker. The young tom guided them over the Thunderpath and then towards the raised one, the light of the fire making their shadows loom tall against its huge stone legs. A monster roared overhead and the ground shook. But even the tiniest kit knew the need for silence and bit back their whimpers of fear. 

“Here,” the warrior meowed eventually, stopping beside a round hole, two cats high. A black tunnel sloped into the ground, a constant stream of water trickling into it. “The water’s fresh,” he added. “We’ll be able to drink it.”

“We’ll have wet paws day and night,” a warrior grumbled. 

Deadfoot gave them an unimpressed glare. “I’ve been inside. There’s a gap in the wall away from the stream to sleep. Besides, we’ll be safe from the Twolegs and their monsters.”

Tallstar raised his tail. All eyes turned to him as he began to speak. “WindClan has travelled for long enough,” he declared. “It’s been nearly a moon since ShadowClan drove us from our home, and the air is beginning to get cold. Leaf-fall is upon us. We have no choice but to stay.”

There was silence, but shockingly, Ashfoot was the first to enter, holding her kit above the water as she marched into the darkness, others following in a line. One by one, they ventured into the shadowy tunnel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love. Please love me


	9. Fire and Ice: I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emberdawn’s path is long and winding, but at least she has her littermate and her friends.

Emberdawn shot a smug look up at her sister for the umpteenth time that night; her black fur was thicker than Sweetheart’s, and it defended her from the biting cold of the leaf-fall night. Sweetheart’s coat was still greenleaf-thin, and she glared back at Emberdawn good-naturedly as she towered over Emberdawn, her chest against the back of her head. Hearing her littermate’s heartbeat was comforting-- as comforting as it could have possibly been, in the wake of all that had happened.

Spottedleaf’s grave was still freshly dug, smelling faintly of lavender and mint, but Emberdawn refused to look at it. The memory of her body, battered and drained of life, was too fresh. 

They sat in silence, eyes turned to the forest. This was their vigil, a way to reflect on their new names and status in the wake of their warrior ceremony. The littermates could have been statues for how much they moved in the night.

Halftail was the first to wake, and Emberdawn saw his shadow moving about the elder’s den. If she strained her eyes, she could see the sleeping form of Tigerclaw in the darkness of the warrior’s den. 

The lichen at the base of the Highrock shifted and was brushed aside by a familiar blue-gray pelt. Emberdawn dipped her head as Bluestar, ThunderClan’s leader, gave the two new warriors a wave of her tail. She padded out of Highrock’s shadow, nose twitching as she scented the crisp morning air. Dread clawed Emberdawn’s belly as she saw Tigerclaw raise his head, amber eyes glinting.

Tigerclaw, the murderer of Redtail, now deputy of ThunderClan. It sent a shiver of fear down her spine at the mere thought.

Ravenflight slipped out of the warrior’s den alongside Sandstorm, Dustpelt, and Longtail. The four warriors padded up to Emebrdawn and Sweetheart, their eyes alight. 

“Bet you’re glad to see dawn, huh?” Longtail jokes, and sure enough, the sun was peeking over the horizon. Emberdawn huffed out a long, loud sigh as she dramatically melted to the dewy grass. 

“I thought the night would _never_ end,” she meowed pitifully, and Ravenflight chuffed, his white-tipped tail waving with his amusement.

“At least _you_ have thick fur.”

Sweetheart wrinkled her nose. “Right? She was acting smug about it all night. It was awful.”

Longtail’s tail curled, then nudged Sweetheart. “Hey, you might be able to sleep until sunhigh. I’ll wake you.”

“Thanks,” the tabby sighed, relieved, then padded off to the warrior’s den. Her tail was dragging behind her, as she apparently didn’t have the energy to lift it. 

The black tom rolled his eyes at the two she-cat’s antics as Sandstorm mewed, “Emberdawn, you can take my nest until sunhigh, then I’m dragging you out. Got it?”

She scrambled to her paws, stretching out her bad leg and feeling the painful pinch as she tried to rid it of the stiffness. “Yeah, yeah,” she agreed, limping over to the warrior’s den. Upon finding a nest that smells heavily of her pale ginger friend, Emberdawn practically collapsed in it, shooting a smug look at Sweetheart, who was pulling together some spare moss to herself, before letting herself drift off. 

_She opened her eyes to a clearing-- the clearing of ThunderClan’s camp. It was empty and barren, all except for a tortoiseshell molly, sitting outside the medicine den with her tail curled neatly over her paws._

_“Spottedleaf!” Emberdawn cried, dashing towards her friend. “You’re--”_

_“I’m not alive,” the medicine cat said gently. “I’m only visiting, and then I have to leave again for good.”_

_Tears began to prick the black molly’s eyes. “But-- why?”_

_“Your paws were set on a dangerous path, moons ago,” she mewed solemnly. “But no path is set in stone, and your actions have shaped it. The future has changed, Emberdawn, and with it, so has your destiny.”_

_“What?” she gasped._

_“But you have forged a new path,” Spottedleaf continued, her eyes distant. “And mine has been changed as well. I’m afraid this is the last you will see of me.”_

_Spottedleaf stood, but Emberdawn jumped up. “Wait! Please, I’m sorry!”_

_The tortoiseshell blinked, and then asked, “What for?”_

_“I-- I promised you you’d be a mentor someday! And now I’m a liar!”_

_Spottedleaf’s nose pressed against Emberdawn’s gently, before she licked the young warrior between her ears. “You never lied to me. And your promise will be fulfilled, one day. I’ll be a mentor. You have changed my path, and I will thank you for it until the end of time,” she purred. “And I love you, my little kit. Goodbye.”_

_“Bye, Ma,” Emberdawn whispered, bowing her head as the dream faded around her._

Her eyes opened slowly, and Emberdawn raised her head. She felt much less tired than she had, thank StarClan. Sandstorm was at the entrance of the den, her green eyes seeming to glow in her silhouette. “Hey, Emberdawn. You’re right on time, actually.”

She chuffed in amusement and rose to her paws, shaking scraps of moss from her fur and patting it back into her friend’s nest. Casting a look at the empty nest she had seen her littermate clawing together that sunrise, she meowed, “I guess Sweetheart’s already out?”

“Yeah. Longtail woke her up a little while ago.” Sandstorm’s tail twitched as Emberdawn padded over to her, then pausing to stretch out her legs, one at a time. “Ravenflight offered to come wake you up, but Tigerclaw called him for sunhigh patrol.”

There was a beat of tense silence after the deputy was mentioned, and Emberdawn nodded sharply. “I should go hunting.”

“When you get back, go talk to Bluestar. She was looking for you.”

“Thanks.” Her ears swiveled as she exited the den, glancing around the clearing. Frostfur was watching her kits tumble about as she spoke with Yellowfang-- the two had interacted more regularly since Frostfur’s kits were stolen and Yellowfang led their rescue. Tigerclaw sat at the foot of the Highrock, looking self-important, while Darkstripe sat outside Bluestar’s den. She rolled her eyes and exited the camp, going off to hunt.

Emberdawn trotted back into camp carrying a mouthful of mice by their tails, dumping them onto the fresh-kill pile and snagging a robin near the edges, hungrily scarfing it down in record time.

“I see someone hasn’t eaten all day.”

Her leader’s soft voice made Emberdawn freeze in place. “Bluestar,” she mewed at the blue-gray molly, dipping her head respectfully. 

Bluestar nodded back. “I have already summoned Graypaw and Sweetheart to my den. Please join us.”

“Of course,” she hurried to confirm, scraping dirt and grass over the bare bones of her fresh-kill. Emberdawn hurried behind Bluestar, all the way to her den. The leader’s tail twitched in annoyance as Darkstripe approached Emberdawn with a sneer.

“Darkstripe, leave us. I need to have a private conversation with these three.”

“But, Bluestar—”

“I can defend myself,” she meowed harshly, and hesitantly, the dark warrior padded away. Emberdawn slipped into the den a few heartbeats after Bluestar, ensuring that Darkstripe would not return to spy on them. After all, he was loyal to Tigerclaw, and Tigerclaw… he was a _murderer_.

_I can’t outright accuse Tigerclaw, but maybe I can plant an idea of what really happened in Bluestar’s head?_

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark of the den, and saw Sweetheart and Graypaw sitting close to Bluestar. Emberdawn hurriedly sat, tucking her tail over her paws and uncomfortably aware of how small she was.

“I have a mission for you three.” Her voice was low, and Emberdawn leaned forward, her pelt prickling with anxiety. “Crookedstar and Nightpelt do not agree with me, but we need to find WindClan and bring them home as fast as possible. With ShadowClan and RiverClan on our borders, we are vulnerable without balance in the forest. There _must_ be four Clans.”

Sweetheart and Emberdawn traded a nervous look as the tabby molly mewed, “So you want _us_ to find them? Why not Whitestorm or even Dustpelt?”

“Because Graypaw’s training has been delayed by the death of Lionheart two moons ago,” Bluestar said bluntly. “And he needs a chance to prove himself to earn his warrior name. You two are young, but trustworthy— Emberdawn, you were one of the cats to lead the rescue of Frostfur’s kits. Sweetheart, you are undoubtedly skilled and you performed well in the battle. This will also give you a chance to prove yourself to your Clanmates.”

There was a long silence as Graypaw wriggled, excited, but Sweetheart shook her head slowly.

“Forgive me, Bluestar, but I can’t. Leaf-bare is only heartbeats away, and we could be attacked by RiverClan any day. Emberdawn is one of the Clan’s most skilled hunters, but I know my strength is in fighting. I have to stay, to protect the kits and elders if nothing else. I don’t need to prove myself— if my Clanmates can’t see that, then I shouldn’t waste my energy trying to prove them wrong.”

The old molly bowed her head. “I understand. You are an honorable warrior, Sweetheart. Emberdawn, Graypaw, what do you think?”

“I’m in!” Graypaw practically exploded, and Emberdawn held back an amused purr. “I want my warrior name!”

The black molly paused, turning over her options in her head. “I would be honored to go on this mission, Bluestar.” _I don’t trust anyone like Tigerclaw or Darkstripe to go in my place._ “I can fight well, but my small size and my impairment—” she lifted her bad paw— “will make me seem less threatening. The WindClan cats are bound to be frightened.”

Bluestar blinked, then purred. “You’re very wise for your age, Emberdawn. Before dawn, go to Yellowfang for your traveling herbs and then leave through the dirtplace. Try to keep it secret.”

“Of course,” Emberdawn dipped her head low. “Just, one request, please?”

Bluestar blinked, and nodded once.

“Can I please tell Ravenflight I’m going on a mission? I know he’ll worry if I just vanish.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then mewed, “You may, but make it clear he is not to tell anyone else.”

“Yes, Bluestar.”

The three stood and exited Bluestar’s den, clustered together worriedly. Graypaw’s fluffy tail was flicking excitedly as he grinned. “I’m gonna be a _warrior_ ,” he hissed lowly. “A warrior, and I can finally stop cracking ticks!”

Emberdawn purred, her own tail curling as she spotted a dusky brown pelt. “Hey, Mousefur.”

Her old mentor turned, eyes sparkling. “Heya, Emberdawn. How’s your first day of being a warrior going?”

“Pretty good,” she mewed in response, the twin flames of her eyes lit up with pride. “How are things going without me pestering you about hunting patrols?”

“Peaceful,” she purred. “If I had to handle you for another moon, I’d have ripped off your pelt and hung it over the tunnel to scare off the foxes!”

Sweetheart snorted, shaking her head before she trotted off, joining Longtail as he came in through the tunnel, just then returning from sunset patrol. Ravenflight wasn’t far behind, having been on a hunting patrol with Sandstorm and Tigerclaw, and the two younger warriors were dragging along an _adder_.

“Great StarClan,” she meowed in amazement as she leaned forward to sniff it. “Who killed this thing?”

“I did.” Ravenflight puffed out his chest. “Managed to squeeze a compliment out of nasty old Tigerclaw for it, too!”

“Is it even edible?” she wondered, licking the cold scales, then cringing. “Ew, never mind, it’s worse than those stupid pellets Twolegs give kittypets.”

“And those tasted and _looked_ like rabbit droppings,” Sweetheart added, having come over with Longtail to admire the snake. “Nice catch, Ravenflight.”

Sandstorm huffed, her mouth full of feathers as she held up a fat bird. “I caught a _pheasant_ but everyone focuses on Ravenflight’s _adder_?”

“Pheasants can’t kill a cat with one bite,” Longtail reasoned. 

“Is that a snake?” A small voice asked, and an ash-gray kit tumbled forward, her blue eyes wide. Cinderkit-- one of Frostfur’s kits. She was about five moons at this point-- almost ready to be apprenticed. She also happened to be the most brazen of the four. Brackenkit, a golden-brown tabby tom, was right behind her, his amber eyes wide with curiosity. Thornkit was nearly identical to Brackenkit, but his eyes were pale blue, like his mother’s. Brightkit, a white kit with ginger patches, was last to join her littermates in exploring the adder.

Sandstorm visibly gave up at that, and dragged her pheasant to the fresh-kill pile. Emberdawn flicked her tail at Ravenflight, beckoning him. They ducked into the apprentice den, where only Graypaw resided. 

“I’m going on a mission for Bluestar with Graypaw,” she meowed. Ravenflight’s eyes widened, but she didn’t let him speak just yet. “I can’t tell you the details, and you can’t tell anyone else-- but I don’t want you to worry. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but--” she broke off, not sure of where to go from there. “But don’t… don’t mess yourself up if I don’t come back.”

Ravenflight’s thin pelt spiked in alarm. “What?! No! No way, I can’t--”

“Ravenflight.” Her best friend silenced, clicking his jaw shut at her stern tone. “The mission itself isn’t very dangerous, but it’s entirely possible that there will be accidents. I am not going to roll over and die at the first complication. I’m saying, if I don’t make it back, you need to remember that.”

He blinked rapidly, then pressed his head against hers, and the two stood like that for a moment, flaming amber and burning violet eyes staring into each other in a silent battle. 

“You better make it back,” he meowed with uncharacteristic gruffness. “I’ll catch another adder for you to see when you come home.”

She laughed, and then glanced at Graypaw’s sleeping form. He stirred, then quieted just as quickly as he had roused. 

“I need to be gone before dawn,” she meowed.

His tail brushed her flank as they exited the apprentice den, and headed into the warrior’s den. “Then let’s share nests again-- for old time’s sake.”

“I dunno, Sweetheart seems content by herself,” she mused.

“So?” he nudged her playfully. “Come on. Old time’s sake.”

Emberdawn snorted, caving. “Alright. For old time’s sake.”

He cheered, and her pelt felt hot, but she shoved down the feeling crawling up her throat and laughed along with her friend.

“Is it _always_ this windy?” Emberdawn groused, her tail flicking in annoyance. 

“Well, they’re not called WindClan for nothing,” Graypaw replied with an amused purr.

“Don’t antagonize me, Graypaw.”

“As if there was a chance I would _not_.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“ _You’re_ entitled.”

“ _Ugh_.”

Only half a day into their mission, and the two were at each other’s throats, Graypaw’s attempts to lighten the mood rebuffed by Emberdawn’s anxiety. They had decided against going to their camp-- WindClan had been driven out early leaf-fall, and leaf-bare was crawling in soon, so the scents would either be stale or gone. Instead, they followed the river upstream, ignoring the RiverClan patrol on the other side watching them warily. Emberdawn’s jaws parted in a yawn, missing the warmth of her nest already. Herbs could only do so much for energy… she frowned. 

“Where did you say we were headed?”

“Barley’s farm,” Graypaw meowed, clearly relieved for the olive branch. “He’s a loner that helped us on our journey to Highstones.”

“Okay,” she murmured in reply.

It was almost entirely silent until the sun was beginning to lower over the western horizon, and the barn came into view. The two young cats practically ran to it, and when they were navigating a corn field, a black-and-white tom emerged to greet them.

“Hey, Graypaw. And Emberpaw, right? Sweetpaw talked about you-- how’s she doing?” he nodded to Emberdawn.

“Emberdawn,” she introduced. “And Sweetheart’s doing pretty well for herself, she’s one of the best warriors in ThunderClan.”

“Give her my congratulations,” the tom purred. “I’m Barley. Nice to meet you, Emberdawn.”

“And you,” she mewed in return, following Barley as he guided them through the corn stalks. “Do you know where we can hunt and rest?”

“The barn is full of mice,” he offered. “And there’s this stack of hay bales in the loft. You can sleep there with me.”

“Thanks, Barley,” Graypaw grinned. They fell into easy chatter, and Emberdawn grimaced as she limped after them, lagging behind a bit. The younger tom glanced back at her with worry coloring his gaze. “Hey, Emberdawn? Are you okay?”

“‘M fine,” she rumbled. 

“You’re not,” he meowed stubbornly, falling back to match her pace. “It’s your leg, isn’t it?”

“ _Damn_ my leg!” she snarled, her tired amber eyes becoming twin flames of fury, then they slid shut and she stopped dead in her tracks, breathing deeply. “Sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“I know you’re stressed,” Graypaw replied, blinking slowly. “How about you set up our nests with Barley? I’ll hunt tonight.”

She knew exactly what the tom was doing, but was too tired to give a biting retort that he probably deserved. “Yeah, sure. I’ll hunt in the morning.”

“Deal, then.”

The next morning, she woke up extra early and spent her time tracking down mice-- she took down five before she decided it was enough and took them back to the toms, who were awake and talking to each other. 

“-- find WindClan.”

“Scrawny-looking cats, headed by a black-and-white tom?” Barley clarified.

“Yeah, have you seen them?” Graypaw asked eagerly as Emberdawn padded up, unceremoniously dropping her catches. 

“Not me personally, of course,” the older tom meowed. “Some city friends of mine. Rumor has it a group of cats is living in the sewers.”

“The _sewers_ ?!” The two looked at her in surprise as she lashed her tail, nose wrinkling in disgust. “StarClan above, what kind of self-respecting cat would go in _that_ carrion-ridden fox-hole?”

“What’s a sewer?” Graypaw asked, leaning over to pick up a mouse from her small pile, and Barley dragged one over for himself. 

“It’s a tunnel with a stream in it, and city Twolegs dump their dirt and carrion in it,” she gagged in reply, choking down one of the mice and then a second, quickly followed by Graypaw. With no mice left, the three rose to their paws. “It’s horrible.”

Graypaw’s lip curled. “Oh, _yuck_.”

Barley sighed, flicking his tail once. Then, he smiled at the two ThunderClan cats. “You’re welcome to visit again.”

“Thanks, Barley,” she mewed, and they set off again.

Emberdawn couldn’t keep the frown off her face as they neared the Twolegplace, her pelt prickling as the Twoleg dens loomed closer. Eventually, she mewed, “I think I know someone to ask… maybe. But you need to stick close to me, okay?”

“What? Why?” Graypaw tilted his head. “Are there dogs?”

“Worse,” she meowed. “This Twolegplace is _very_ big, and it’s called a ‘city’. The Twolegplace near ThunderClan is called a town, because it’s pretty small compared to most Twolegplaces. I grew up here before me and Sweetheart were adopted to some people in the town.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

Emberdawn gave him a significant look. He shut up.

The Thunderpaths were everywhere, but most were silent this early in the morning. Emberdawn led Graypaw through alleys and detours, relying on her hazy memories of the place, until she found it.

A simple little Twoleg den with roses under the clear-stone and a mossy stone fence.

She climbed onto the fence, her tail swishing as she glared into the garden. A kittypet looking almost frighteningly identical to Sweetheart was sprawled out in the grass, a blissful smile on her face. Graypaw jumped up beside Emberdawn.

“Who’s she?” he murmured, but Emberdawn brushed him off, jumping down.

“Nutmeg,” she spoke with authority, and the tabby molly’s head jerked upwards, her amber eyes flying wide with terror.

“Oh-- fuck, shit, please, I haven’t done anything,” she whimpered, scrambling to her paws. 

“Calm down, we’re not from the streets,” Emberdawn growled with a lash of her tail. “We’re from the forest.”

There was a moment as she processed that, and Nutmeg smoothed her fur. “Like, the wild cats? Don’t you eat dead things?”

“Yes,” Graypaw meowed bluntly, his whiskers twitching in annoyance. 

Emberdawn paced in front of the kittypet. She fixed her eyes on Nutmeg, and meowed, “Do you know where to find WindClan?”

“Wind- _what_?” She was clearly still terrified, so Emberdawn switched tacts.

“Listen, we need your help because a lot of cats are in danger. Please just try to think, because you’re the only one I know can help.”

She stared at the Clan cat. “What? I don’t know you!”

 _Ouch_. Emberdawn sighed heavily. “Graypaw, this is Nutmeg. My… mother.”

Nutmeg gasped dramatically, and Graypaw rolled his eyes. “Are all kittypets like this?”

“Unfortunately,” she rumbled in return as Nutmeg stared at her, disbelieving.

“Belladonna!? What in God’s name are you doing so far from your housefolk? Oh, and you have nasty scars all over your neck, are you _limping_? Christ almighty…”

Graypaw laughed. “Wow, I actually forgot you weren’t Clanborn. It’s so surreal-- she looks just like Sweetheart.”

Emberdawn grimaced at the attention she was getting from her mother. “Most of the Clan forgot after a few moons… how much are you willing to bet this mission will drag up those memories again?”

“With Darkstripe and Tigerclaw in the Clan? I’m not taking that bet.”

Eventually, Nutmeg backed away again, her eyes shining. “Fucking hell, Belladonna, I thought I’d never see you again!”

“My name is Emberdawn now,” she corrected. Her mother blinked in confusion, but she pressed on. “My Twolegs were cruel to me, so Princess and I left. Her name is Sweetheart now, and we’re respected in our Clan. Please, Nutmeg, I just need you to tell me if you know where to find a large group of cats from the moors.”

Nutmeg didn’t seem to understand, but she nodded sadly. “Okay. I heard one of the alley cats talking about some wild cats at the Highroad. Be careful, please?”

Emberdawn didn’t reply, only ducked her head and leapt back onto the fence, then back down into the short grass below. Graypaw joined her. 

“That was harsh.”

“It needed to be done,” she meowed shortly. “I can’t live with a paw in each world.”

He switched topics, to her relief. “What’s the Highroad?”

“A Thunderpath,” Emberdawn replied, scanning the horizon. In the distance, she heard the roar of monsters, and began to follow it, “that the Twolegs built in the sky.”

“That’s terrifying.”

The Highroad was, in fact, terrifying. 

The bellows of monsters were constant, and it hurt her ear-fur to be this close. Emberdawn pressed her ears flat against her skull, eyeing the fading sun. 

“We can keep looking at dawn,” Graypaw suggested, much to Emberdawn’s disdain. “Oh, don’t give me that look. We haven’t eaten since this morning, and I can see you’re limping again.”

“I’m fine,” she grunted, annoyed. 

And her leg promptly buckled under her.

Emberdawn sighed, scrambling back up and tucking her bad paw into her chest. Graypaw gave her a pointed glare.

“Fine. Fine, we can rest. Then we cross this Thunderpath… I can see the sewer entrance in the side of the Highroad.”

Graypaw herded her under a hedge, and she curled in the earth uncomfortably. But the moment she closed her eyes, sleep claimed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love. Please love me


	10. Fire and Ice: II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emberdawn’s journey ends, but her trials aren’t over yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Here’s an interaction that brings up Emberdawn’s past and her accepting that she can’t ever go back  
> Y’all: NUTMEG SWEARS

_A lone cat stood in the clearing now. His eyes bored into Emberdawn’s, his tail raised high. But he was so small, too young or stars to be woven into his fur._

_“I am Badgerfang,” he squeaked, padding up to her with a wisdom beyond his years hidden in his eyes. “You’re Emberdawn, right?”_

_She nodded blankly, looking at the kit in surprise. “You’re so young,” the warrior mewed in response, her heart heavy._

_Badgerfang’s eyes were sad as he looked back at her. “I was one of the many kits Brokenstar made an apprentice too early,” he replied solemnly. “I died driving out WindClan, and I was only three moons old. StarClan took pity on me, and gave me my warrior name.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_The words slipped out, and she couldn’t stop them._

_“I’m sorry I didn’t help. I’m sorry I didn’t drive him out sooner.”’_

_The kit shook his head, a gentle amusement in his eyes. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. When kits die… Well, I guess you’ll know one day. Can I ask you something?”_

_“Anything,” she agreed readily._

_His voice full of pain as he meowed, “Right the wrongs I was forced to participate in. Make things right. Please, just bring WindClan home.”_

Her eyes wrenched open as Emberdawn bit back a wail of distress. She lifted her head slowly, and looked up-- the moon was exactly split in half, hovering on the western sky. She nudged Graypaw hard, and he mumbled in protest, uncurling.

“Wha’? Em’rdawn, i’s still dark,” he slurred sleepily. 

“Shove a rat in it,” she snapped gently, prodding him again. “We need to get moving before the Thunderpath starts getting crowded again.”

“Ugh… fine.” The tom stood with a stretch, his jaws gaping in a massive yawn. Emberdawn pushed her way out of the hedge, trying to shake off the dream. Why would StarClan choose her? Of all cats, why was _she_ important? She was just a kittypet who stood by and let a murderer become her deputy.

They crossed the Thunderpath hurriedly, barely sparing a glance in either direction as there was hardly any rumble of monsters, and all of that was on the Highroad. Everything was still and silent in the predawn hour.

She ducked her nose down, and inhaled deeply. Cat-scent hit the roof of her mouth, and she nodded to Graypaw. “This is it. You’re more familiar with their scent-- lead the way.”

Clearly happy to be in the lead again, Graypaw ducked his head and tracked the trail until their pelts were practically brushing the stone of the Highroad cliff-side, and Graypaw looked ahead, instead angling his ears forward and brushing his tail against the disgusting grass.

Eventually, the earth sloped, and a gaping hole in the side was revealed. A trickle of water flowed into it, and Emberpaw curled her lip at the scent.

“This must be the place,” she grunted, disgusted by the revolting scent wafting from the tunnel. “I’ll go first… it’s dark enough for me to hide easily. You follow a few fox-lengths behind.”

“Agreed,” he meowed, and Emberdawn took in her last breath of fresh air for StarClan knew how long, and padded into the blackness.

It didn’t take long for her eyes to adjust, and as she padded in, the scent of sick cats wafted to her nose and only grew stronger. Graypaw wasn’t far behind her, his tail lashing and visible even in the low light. She shot a glare over her shoulder, and Graypaw hesitantly lowered it.

A crack in the wall became visible as they neared it, and Emberdawn took a deep breath, trying to ignore the eye-watering reek, and stuck her head inside.

A warning cry rose from inside, and immediately, eyes and teeth flashed as cats unsheathed their claws, hostile. Emberdawn curled her tail, a signal to Graypaw for him to wait. She sat calmly, in full view of the cats inside. There was almost no light, but she saw the cats in sharp relief. Their bones almost seemed to stick out of their mangy pelts, their eyes the only thing with life in them. Pity pierced her heart like a claw, and she blinked slowly, bowing her head. 

The WindClan cats stood their ground, not moving a muscle. _They must be waiting for a signal from their leader,_ she realized, but bit back any noise she would have made.

A black-and-white tom padded forward, his claws unsheathed. He was old and every bit as disheveled as his Clanmates, if not more. An ugly gash adorned his flank, smelling of infection. “Who are you?” he demanded.

She looked back calmly, refusing to let her pelt prickle. They would take this as a sign of aggression, and likely attack. “I am Emberdawn, a warrior of ThunderClan,” she announced. Shocked murmurs swept through the cats of WindClan, but she continued. “My companion Graypaw and I were sent here by Bluestar. Graypaw is waiting outside, since we thought you would appreciate seeing someone less threatening first.”

The tom’s tail twitched, his expression fading to one of guarded curiosity. “He may enter.”

She raised her tail, and after a beat, Graypaw slipped in. She was scarred, that was true, but Sweetheart liked to tease that she looked more like a fluffy apprentice, and her limp made her look weak-- she knew from experience. Graypaw, on the other hand, was every bit as powerful as Lionheart had been, with muscles rippling beneath his thick fur and towering over Emberdawn. He was intimidating, no matter how cheerful his personality was. The tom glared at him warily.

“I am Graypaw. You must be Tallstar.” He dipped his head, and Emberdawn also stood, bowing to the leader whose name she just learned. 

“We are honored to be in your presence,” she mewed softly.

The hostility faded from Tallstar’s body, and he relaxed, lowering his tail. The cats of WindClan backed down, their claws sheathing and pelts smoothing.

“Our mission was to find WindClan and bring you home,” Emberdawn continued. Graypaw thankfully let her speak for the both of them, because as kind as he was, he tended to blunder. She recalled the first hunting lesson she ever had fondly, and the complete lack of tact he had in trying to cheer her up. 

“Home…” Tallstar’s eyes were sad. “Home is not safe for us anymore.”

“But--”

Emberdawn stuffed her tail into her Clanmate’s mouth, and she heard a molly nearby snort in amusement. He spat it out, and pawed at his tongue, trying to get her fur off of it. “Brokenstar has been driven out by ShadowClan and ThunderClan. Your hunting grounds are safe to return to.”

An excited chatter broke out, and it took the WindClan leader lifting his voice to ask for silence to make it dial back. When he turned back to the ThunderClan cats, he was smiling. 

“Thank you. We will return.”

“May we travel with you?” Graypaw asked. Tallstar looked at the gray tom, clearly knowing it was a tactful offer to help, but he nodded. 

“WindClan!” Tallstar called. The cats rose to their feet as one. “We must return home. Our camp is safe once more, and Brokenstar is gone. Please help your Clanmates, and we will be departing immediately.”

The response was almost instantaneous. The excited murmur barely stopped as the WindClan cats gathered behind Tallstar until no cat was left behind. Then, Tallstar set out from the gap in the wall of the sewer.

When they met the light of the setting moon and the beginnings of dawn, the murmur hushed. Cats eyed the Thunderpath warily.

Emberdawn cleared her throat, catching the leader and deputy’s attention. “At this time of day, Thunderpaths are usually quiet. If I may give a suggestion,” she added to Tallstar. His eyes were guarded, but he nodded. “You might want to send a third of your warriors and apprentices across first, then your queens and elders before sending the other two thirds. Just to ensure the weaker cats are always protected.”

Tallstar’s eyes slid closed, and he nodded once. The deputy, a dark-furred tom named Deadfoot, repeated her words to his Clan, and began gathering a patrol.

Graypaw went across with the first group, and Emberdawn went with the queens. She noticed one queen in particular who was holding a young kit, her shoulder sagging. They hurried across the Thunderpath, and barely missed a monster that roared out of nowhere. Emberdawn had picked up the elder by their scruff and literally dragged them out of the way, and though the elder certainly didn’t thank her for it, she saw approval in a different queen’s eyes as she herded her own kit.

“I’m Emberdawn,” she introduced softly. The queen tilted her head, amused.

“I know. The name’s Ashfoot. The other queen is Morningflower-- she’s been weak since the birth of her kit, so just help out with that, alright?”

“I will,” she promised. “And I’ll make sure you and your kit get back home safe as well.”

Ashfoot snorted. “You’re not half bad for a ThunderClan warrior. Though I wonder why you’re so small?”

She shrugged in reply. “I was just the runt of my litter. I’m pretty sure my littermate Sweetheart stole all of my size, she’s almost as big as Tigerclaw and she’s still growing.”

“Hah, nice.”

The chatter was comfortable as Graypaw retraced their steps back through the Twolegplace, guiding the WindClan cats confidently. They passed by Nutmeg’s nest, and she saw her kittypet mother perched on the fence, her amber eyes wide with wonder as WindClan came through. 

Her limp kicked back in as they neared the edge of the city, but Emberdawn offered to carry Morningflower’s kit. The queen had glared at her, but eventually let the ThunderClan warrior help.

“What’s the deal with Graypaw?” Morningflower asked eventually. “He looks like a warrior, but he’s got an apprentice name.”

The Clan had stopped to catch their breath, and Emberdawn looked up from where she was bathing her shoulder fur. “Oh.” She lowered her voice a bit, not wanting to dredge up old memories for Graypaw. “His mentor, Lionheart, was ThunderClan’s deputy after Redtail died. Brokenstar attacked our camp when almost all of our warriors were out, and he murdered Lionheart. I was right there, too.” She growled in anger at herself, shaking her head violently. “Ripped the coward to shreds the moment I had my claws on him.”

Morningflower hummed in understanding. 

It was a little after sunset when they reached the barn, Graypaw having apparently convinced Tallstar that Barley was trustworthy. Emberdawn ignored her screaming shoulder and put her training to good use, bringing a small pile of mice back for the elders and queens to share. 

She only ate half a mouse before she was asleep.

The next morning, they ventured onto the moor. The WindClan cats looked so much more _alive_ in the moor, and some even started to whoop and run, their tails streaming in the wind. Emberdawn herself laughed at the antics of full-grown warriors, until they reached the center of the moor.

Tallstar called her forward, and she dipped her head. 

“This is where we must part. We will send a pair of warriors with you to ensure you get home safe.”

“Thank you, Tallstar,” Graypaw mewed. “May StarClan light your path.”

“And yours.”

Two WindClan warriors joined them then-- a young tom named Onewhisker who chatted cheerfully with Graypaw, and Deadfoot, who padded silently along with Emberdawn, lagging a bit behind the two toms.

“You have a limp as well,” he pointed out. “Mind if I ask what happened?”

She grimaced. “Kind of.”

“It’s fine,” Deadfoot nodded. “We all have scars we aren’t proud of.”

As they neared the Twoleg bridge over the falls, Graypaw turned around, his tail waving.

“Hey, we can cross here, and then it’s only a rabbit-run to the stepping stones!”

“That’s RiverClan territory,” Deadfoot pointed out drily. “We can’t just go in.”

“But it’s a _shortcut_ ,” Onewhisker pointed out. “And we’ll be home before moonrise!”

“You just want to get a warm nest,” the WindClan deputy snapped back, but there was a gleam of amusement in his eyes. Emberdawn’s chest felt heavy-- that was what she should have had with Redtail or Lionheart. But they were gone now. And Tigerclaw could never joke with his Clanmates like that.

Graypaw pouted. “Come on, Emberdawn. Please?”

She lashed her tail once, and sighed to herself, turning to the WindClan cats. “You two should probably head home. You’ve had a long journey, and we don’t need to make it longer. Thank you for your time.”

“Of course,” Deadfoot purred. “You’ve done WindClan a great service. We won’t soon forget it. May StarClan light your path.”

“And yours.”

The two WindClan warriors parted, and Graypaw looked at her. “Can we take the shortcut, then?”

“No.”

He huffed in annoyance, and then slowly and purposefully crossed the bridge.

“You’re terrible,” she growled, following him. He preened in reply, and they continued following the gorge with the river raging far below, their paws heavy with exhaustion.

The stepping-stones were in view when a screech alerted her to a RiverClan patrol. She turned just in time to see a silver she-cat barrel into Graypaw, and he yelped in shock. Five more RiverClan cats approached, hissing and spitting, and a brown tom swiped at Emberdawn, and she dodged swiftly with a growl. She darted forward and slammed her head into his throat, and he stopped to gag as Emberdawn turned to rip the tabby off of Graypaw. 

“What are you _doing_?!” she hissed. “We’re just going home!”

A tom stepped forward-- she recognized him as Oakheart. His eyes were slitted with anger. “You’re intruders. Where is the prey you stole?”

“What _prey_?” she spat back. “We’re returning from a mission to bring WindClan to their territory, since Brokenstar is gone!”

A dark warrior yowled and flung himself at her, and she scrambled out of the way, fur spiking as she barely dodged--

\-- and he careened past her, falling into the gorge.

“Whiteclaw!” a molly with golden spotted fur wailed. “ _No_!”

Then chaos erupted as several things happened at once.

The golden molly slammed into Emberdawn, and she yowled in shock and fear as her hind paws found no purchase but air. Her forepaws scrambled to hold on to the loose rock, and Graypaw screeched. A ThunderClan patrol ran across the stepping-stones, and Emberdawn vaguely saw Sandstorm grappling with the golden molly as Tigerclaw took on Oakheart. 

Graypaw was still yowling, and she was desperately trying to hold on, her shoulder screaming in protest as her claws slipped, and her weight started dragging her back, down, and all at once, she lost her grip, pitching backwards with a wail of terror--

\-- and strong jaws clamped onto her scruff, hauling her back. Emberdawn gasped, trying to regain her balance as she saw her savior.

Ravenflight.

Gratitude flooded her as the battle stilled, and Oakheart turned on the golden molly.

“Leopardfur! Stop acting like you have a brain the size of a minnow!”

“She killed Whiteclaw!” Leopardfur spat, lunging again, but was intercepted by a gray RiverClan tom. 

“Whiteclaw tried to attack her and misjudged his leap,” Oakheart spat. “It was an accident! If that tom hadn’t caught her, then you would be a murderer and there would be _war_!”

She backed away, still bristling, and Oakheart looked at Tigerclaw.

“I’m sorry. Please take your warriors and go home.”

Bluestar’s eyes were fixed on Emberdawn as she chewed the tangy leaf Yellowfang had practically shoved down her throat; if she remembered correctly from the short lesson on herbs she received from Spottedleaf (even _thinking_ the late medicine cat’s name made her chest ache) when she was a ‘paw, it was called thyme. For shock, probably. She didn’t have the best memory.

The atmosphere had been tense since Emberdawn and Graypaw had recounted their story to Bluestar and Tigerclaw. ThunderClan’s leader only watched Emberdawn as she chewed absently on the leaves Yellowfang had set in front of her one by one. They tasted awful and she nearly gagged trying to swallow them, but the mere act of chewing was grounding her. 

“You were pretty brave, kitty,” Yellowfang rumbled. “Spottedleaf would be proud.”

Her fur prickled at the comment, but she didn’t reply. Instead, Emberdawn kept her eyes trained on her paws. She was, in fact, aware of what was happening around her, even if it was as if everything was dulled by the numbness in her head. Graypaw had drifted to fitful sleep not long ago, and Yellowfang was staring at her perfectly sorted herb store, shuffling the stacks over and over to give her paws something to do. The deputy’s unnaturally long claws were sunken into the soft dirt, and Bluestar never looked away from the young warrior. Ravenflight was crouched outside, vigilantly guarding the entrance to the medicine den and waiting for when he would be allowed in.

Eventually, she finished eating the herbs and settled in the too-big nest, feeling colder than she ever had as Yellowfang shooed away Ravenflight, Tigerclaw, and Bluestar. She slipped into a deep sleep.

_She was sitting at Sunningrocks. The stones were warm around her and sparkled with morning dew still clinging to the rock, and the river burbled peacefully, the water glittering and catching the dawn light, fish leaping out of it and shining beautifully._

_Emberdawn stared at it all, her heart in her throat with some kind of unspeakable fear. It was all so peaceful, yet so terribly wrong._

_“Fire alone can save our Clan.”_

_She lifted her head and saw a familiar form._

_Lionheart._

_Emberdawn felt her breath catch, and she leapt down to greet him, bowing her head deeply. Lionheart purred in amusement._

_“No need for that, little warrior,” he assured, and Emberdawn straightened, her eyes shining with grief and guilt. “I have come with a message.”_

_She frowned at the deputy._ Her _deputy. “But… I’m not a medicine cat. Shouldn’t you talk to Yellowfang?”_

_He padded up to her with his green eyes full of pride. “StarClan chose to speak to you because you because you are the cat who needs our message the most.”_

_“I-- okay.” She met Lionheart’s eyes. Her tail dropped slightly as memories trickled in. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t save you.”_

_“It wasn’t your fault… it was beyond your control. If I had not died then, I would have later on. My death was plotted and purposeful, Emberdawn,” Lionheart meowed solemnly. “And you need to know that.”_

_“The deaths won’t stop. Not until the traitor is dead.”_

_Tigerclaw! The name flashed through her mind, and she felt like she was reeling. “He led Brokenstar to our camp when it was almost defenseless,” she gasped in realization._

_Lionheart’s eyes were sad, and he bowed his head as he spoke. “Hard times are ahead of you, and it will take more than just faith to get through them.”_

_“What--”_

_“Beware the bloodstained water,” the golden warrior intoned, his eyes infinite and full of light and darkness all at once, “and when the stars fade, fire must burn brighter than even them.”_

_The world was fading around her, the earth beneath her paws melting into nothing. Her deputy was nothing more than an apparition, his pelt as incorporeal as breath on a cold day._

_“Wait-- Lionheart!” she cried desperately. “What do you mean?!”_

Waking was harder than usual.

Her eyelids refused to open at all, and her paws were made of rocks. Everything felt heavy, and she peeled her eyes open slowly, then blinked away the bleariness of sleep.

This did not solve the fact that everything was incredibly sore. 

“Ugh,” she rumbled, stretching her legs out one by one as she stood. Yellowfang padded over from where she had been sitting.

“You’re up earlier than I expected,” the old molly meowed, her expression a mix of exasperation and fondness. “Should've slept until sunhigh with how little sleep you got over the past week.”

“Week?” Emberdawn’s jaws gaped in a massive yawn before she meowed, “We were only gone for about four days.”

“Yes, and you got only a few hours of sleep before you left,” Yellowfang chided. “If you’re up to it, your littermate is insisting she sees you.”

“Sweetheart? Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

As if she’d been listening (and, knowing Sweetheart, she probably had), Sweetheart marched into the medicine den, her eyes scanning Emberdawn for any wounds. When she found nothing but small nicks and a bit of missing fur, the light brown tabby huffed in relief, practically collapsing next to Emberdawn.

“I heard what Sandstorm said,” she hissed accusingly. “Got into a fight with _RiverClan_?”

“I barely even laid a claw on them,” the black molly protested tiredly, licking her chest fur. “Meanwhile, two of their warriors tried to throw _me_ into the gorge!”

Sweetheart’s face scrunched. “ _What_?”

“Yeah… the first one overbalanced and fell in. The second actually almost got me, but Ravenflight pulled me up.” 

“Wow…”

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

Bluestar’s yowl brought the attention of the three cats in the medicine den, and Emberdawn sighed, already limping out. She saw Graypaw already sitting beneath the Highrock, so he must have been awake even before her. Sweetheart was pressed comfortingly against her side as she kept weight off her bad leg.

All of the sudden, Sweetheart peeled away, and Emberdawn stumbled awkwardly, trying to right herself. A second cat, only a bit larger than Emberdawn, took Sweetheart’s place only a heartbeat later, and Ravenflight’s concerned violet eyes met her own.

“Hey,” he breathed. “I, um… I couldn’t catch you another adder. But there’s a fat crow I set aside.”

The black molly blinked at him, stunned, before purring, shaking her head as she did so. “Fur-brain,” she muttered fondly.

“It didn’t even see me coming,” Ravenflight meowed proudly, his tail curling.

Glancing after her littermate, Emberdawn saw Sweetheart twining her tail with Longtail’s, her green eyes shining with delight. Before the young warrior had much of a chance to ponder that, Bluestar’s announcement interrupted her thoughts.

“Our warrior Emberdawn and the apprentice Graypaw were sent on a mission of utmost importance by myself,” their leader meowed. All eyes were trained on the blue-gray molly, the undivided attention of ThunderClan on her. “Under almost absolute secrecy, I sent them to find the exiled WindClan and bring them home. It is with great pride that I tell you they were successful, and WindClan is back on their moors.”

A cheer rose from most of her Clanmates, and Whitestorm padded up next to her, jabbing her good shoulder good-naturedly. “Nice job, Emberdawn.”

She smiled back tiredly as Bluestar continued. “So it is my honor and solemn duty to give Graypaw his warrior name, and long overdue it is. Graypaw, step forward.”

The five warriors who had been apprentices with Graypaw-- Sandstorm, Dustpelt, Sweetheart, Emberdawn, and Ravenflight-- all yowled their approval, rising above the clamor of ThunderClan as Graypaw was nudged forward, in the center of the gathered cats. His amber eyes were huge with anticipation.

“I, Bluestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn. Graypaw,” Bluestar mewed, her eyes gentle yet proud, “do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do.” His voice shook with anticipation. 

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name.” The leader almost seemed to slide off the Highrock like water, her blue-gray pelt seeming to shimmer in the cold morning light. “Graypaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Graystripe. StarClan honors your optimism and bravery, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

Bluestar rested her chin on his head, speaking those gentle words as she did every warrior ceremony, her eyes full of pride. Emberdawn refused to wonder what her leader said-- that was private, only between the leader and the new warrior.

“Graystripe! Graystripe! Graystripe!” Emberdawn stumbled a bit with how forcefully she was yowling, and her dramatics were rewarded with a massive grin from the gray tom she had journeyed with. Ravenflight laughed and raised his own voice ever higher until the chant died away, and Graystripe silently slipped out of camp to take his place in vigil despite the early hour.

Bluestar leapt onto the Highrock once more, her tail lifting and commanding silence over ThunderClan. They hushed at once, looking up at her respectfully. 

“There is another ceremony I must perform. Swiftkit, Brackenkit, Thornkit, Brightkit, and Cinderkit, please come forward.”

The five kits tumbled out of the crowd. Swiftkit was a bit older than the other four, and it was a bit past time for him to be apprenticed. Something Bluestar reflected, as she called his name first.

“Swiftkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Swiftpaw. Your mentor will be Longtail.”

The young tom’s eyes were wide with shock and joy as the Clan parted around him to let him through. The black-and-white apprentice wriggled in excitement as their leader continued.

“Longtail, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have received excellent training from Darkstripe, and you have shown yourself to be intelligent and skillful. You will be the mentor of Swiftpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to him.”

The two touched noses, their eyes shining.

“Brightkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Brightpaw. Your mentor will be Whitestorm.”

The warrior padded forward without hesitation, his yellow eyes fixed on Brightheart. There was no surprise in his expression, only delight. 

“Whitestorm, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have received excellent training from Patchpelt, and you have shown yourself to be powerful and wise. You will be the mentor of Brightpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to her.”

As Whitestorm and Brightpaw touched noses gingerly, Bluestar wasted no time moving on-- probably because there were still three other kits to apprentice. There would certainly be no empty space in the apprentice den, though it would be less crowded than when Emberdawn was an apprentice, she thought with an amused huff.

Wait, nevermind. Two of them were tiny and shared a nest with the biggest apprentice.

“Thornkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Thornpaw. Your mentor will be Mousefur.”

Emberdawn turned to stare at her old mentor, who winked back slyly as she made her way over to Thornpaw. “The old molly thinks I make a good mentor,” the dusky brown she-cat whispered as she passed.

“Mousefur, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have given excellent training to Emberdawn, and you have shown yourself to be loyal and intelligent. You will be the mentor of Thornpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to him.”

Thornpaw was far more enthused about touching noses, but drew away almost immediately after, apparently shocked by how cold her nose was. 

“Brackenkit,” Bluestar continued, “you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Brackenpaw. Your mentor will be Sandstorm.”

With that, a surfeit of eyes turned to stare at the pale ginger warrior. She brushed past Emberdawn with a smug glare, to which Emberdawn replied by simply rolling her eyes. 

“Sandstorm, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have received excellent training from Whitestorm, and you have shown yourself to be skilled and thoughtful. You will be the mentor of Brackenpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to him.”

Brackenpaw was the most reticent of his littermates, but touched noses with the enthusiastic Sandstorm easily enough, his amber eyes lit with delight-- probably since she was the greatest huntress in the Clan. A title Emberdawn planned on reclaiming, as her journey had put her behind in that respect.

At last, the smaller-than-average Cinderkit sat in the center. She hadn’t been born a runt, but never seemed to grow much, which Emberdawn related to easily with her own small size. Her blue eyes challenged their leader, daring her to refuse to apprentice her.

Thankfully, that was not the case.

“Cinderkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Cinderpaw. Your mentor will be Emberdawn.”

Whispers broke out in the Clan, but she felt numb to them as she stared, wide-eyed, up at Bluestar. Her leader had a mischievous glint in her eye, and Ravenflight nudged her forward. Shaking herself out of her stupor, Emberdawn began limping through the crowd, as she had taken a place near the back. 

The whispers were clearer as she passed through, and they were… mixed.

_“She’s so young--”_

_“-- almost prodigious--”_

_“-- such a talented molly--”_

_“-- a cripple--”_

_“-- a runt--”_

_“-- a kittypet.”_

But she let the words slide off her pelt, and she stood shakily in front of Cinderpaw, who looked up at her with something in her gaze Emberdawn couldn’t name.

“Emberdawn, you are ready to take on an apprentice,” Bluestar meowed, but the warrior couldn’t tear her eyes from the ash-gray apprentice. “You have received excellent training from Mousefur, and you have shown yourself to be loyal and resilient. You will be the mentor of Cinderpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to her.”

Cinderpaw’s nose practically crashed into hers, but she didn’t flinch away at the burst of pain like she expected herself to-- instead, she stood stock-still and then dipped her head and tried again, this time much gentler. Her flaming amber eyes met Cinderpaw’s clear blue, and when they drew away as mentor and apprentice, Emberdawn recognized the look in the apprentice’s eyes. Admiration, but for once, it wasn’t directed at Sweetheart or Sandstorm or any of her friends that normally stood beside her. No, it was aimed at _Emberdawn_ , for whatever strange reason, and it made her heart lift and sent a shiver of delight down her spine. 

“So,” Cinderpaw meowed breathlessly as ThunderClan called her name. “What are we doing first?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEEEEEEET MY CINDER CHILD IS HERE


	11. Fire and Ice: III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emberdawn discovers exactly how hard it is to mentor a hyperactive apprentice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m updating Tuesdays, Fridays, and some Sundays if I have a backlog long enough. Right now, I’m pretty close to finishing Fire and Ice, but also I’m struggling with good old Writer’s Block. Fun! (Not.)
> 
> Me: hey dad, to work on my writing style I’ve been rewriting the whole Warriors series.  
> Dad: the series that’s been running for 16 years and has like 100 books?  
> Me: yeah. I’ve got almost 100 pages of writing on my google docs, and it’s only been like a month since I started.  
> Dad: If you actually cared, you could probably dominate the world.

It was almost sunhigh, and Tigerclaw was organizing patrols. He shot a glare at Emberdawn, probably bitter she got an apprentice despite her youth, before assigning Dustpelt, Whitestorm, and Brightpaw to sunhigh patrol and leaving camp himself with Runningwind and Willowpelt to hunt. 

Cinderpaw stared up at Emberdawn with poorly contained enthusiasm as she repeated her question. “What first, Emberdawn?”

She hummed, turning over her options. Sunhigh patrol had already been assigned, and sunset patrol would exhaust her fresh-from-the-nursery apprentice. Battle training would make her too sore for most things tomorrow, and hunting lessons were out because her leg was still strained… 

“Sorry, Cinderpaw,” she meowed apologetically. “I can’t really take you out for anything exciting…”

… but she  _ really _ didn’t want to spend her first day as a mentor teaching Cinderpaw how to take care of ticks. Mousefur and Thornpaw seemed to be covering that already. What else  _ could _ Emberdawn teach her?

An idea sparked in her mind. “How about we ask Yellowfang what herbs she needs to stock up on?”

The gray apprentice wriggled, hopping up with her eyes shining. “ _ Really _ ?”

“Yeah, why not?” She shrugged nonchalantly, already padding towards the medicine den. “I know it’s not that exciting, but it’s good for the Clan, and better than what Thornpaw’s doing.”

“What’s Thornpaw doing?”

“Taking care of the elder’s ticks. I believe Sandstorm is showing Brackenpaw where to gather moss for their nests.”

Yellowfang scowled deeply as Emberdawn poked her head in. “Injured  _ again _ ?”

“Nope,” she replied cheerfully, letting Cinderpaw rush in behind her with wide, curious eyes. “Actually, I was wondering if there were any herbs you needed that we can get for you.”

The ancient medicine cat snorted derisively, curling her lip in the slightest before replying, “Find some poppies for me, eh? Borage and chickweed, if you can find it. Leaf-bare’s in the wind, I can feel it in my bones. One-eye has a cough, so I’m keeping a close eye on that molly.”

Emberdawn narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “There might be a few poppies around, still. I remember what borage looks like, but what’s chickweed?”

“For greencough-- best besides catmint,” Yellowfang huffed. “It’s tall with almond-shaped leaves.”

Cinderpaw bounced on her way out of the tunnel, her eyes shining as they made their way towards the river.

“Where are we headed?”

“Sunningrocks.”

“Why?”

“It’s warmest there,” Emberdawn explained softly, her ears twitching. “More herbs would grow in that area than any other.”

Graystripe’s eyes twinkled as they passed him, and Emberdawn flicked her tail in reply with a low purr. Quickly, the pair of she-cats put the camp behind them. The sandy hollow came up fast, and Cinderpaw immediately began asking questions.

“What’s this place?”

“The sandy hollow-- we use it for battle training.”

“When will we do  _ that _ ?”

Emberdawn hummed noncommittally, skirting around the depression of loose earth and moving on, padding a few fox-lengths into the trees until she came upon a small stream. “Pay attention to your surroundings, Cinderpaw. What can you tell me about this stream?”

The apprentice stopped beside her, her eyes narrowed at the water. “Um… it’s small.”

“And?”

Stupidly, or perhaps with great intelligence, Cinderpaw stuck her paw into the stream. She yelped, drawing it back and bathing it in licks. Her ears twitched in irritation. “It’s cold?”

“It’s also running towards camp,” Emberdawn meowed, biting back a purr of amusement. “So the water is coming from the river.”

“Oh!” The gray apprentice’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Then we follow this to Sunningrocks?”

“Right-- just try not to get your paws wet.”

“Hey!”

“Okay, show me your best hunting crouch,” Emberdawn instructed.

Cinderpaw shuffled awkwardly before lowering herself into an unbalanced crouch, her tail far too high in the air and almost all of her weight in her front. It was a start.

“Lower your tail, and tuck your paws in more.” She poked at the offending limbs. “And make sure your tail is just barely hovering above the ground, not touching it or waving around like a dog’s.”

Her apprentice huffed, making the proper adjustments as Graystripe added his own input in. 

“Try shifting your weight to your haunches,” he suggested cheerily. “Less work to keep from tumbling over.”

Eventually, Emberdawn nodded. “Good. Now tell me what you know about different prey.”

“Mice and voles will feel your pawsteps,” she meowed back immediately, a smug expression dominating most of her face. “And rabbits will hear you.”

“What about birds?”

Cinderpaw blinked. “They’ll… see you?”

“Yes, but if they do see you, instead of running like the others, they will fly and make a lot of noise,” Emberdawn mewed simply. “You need to be able to catch it midair if you really want to hunt birds, but that’s a lesson for another time. Can you tell me why we’re at Sunningrocks?”

“To be in the wind?” she groused, flicking her ears back.

Graystripe laughed. “More sun means more plants, and more plants means  _ more prey _ !”

Emberpaw snorted at her friend’s antics with a roll of her eyes, then lifted her tail. The other two fell silent at once, and she rotated her ears.

Deep in her ear fur, she heard a tiny heartbeat.

“Water vole,” she hissed. “Pay close attention.”

She pressed herself low to the ground, watching the mouse-like creature come out of its tiny burrow, sniffing the air warily. 

Slowly, slowly, Emberdawn shifted her position. 

The wind changed, and she was suddenly upwind. The vole spun with a squeal, but the huntress was already upon it, snapping its neck in one fell blow.

“Thank you, StarClan, for this prey.”

Cinderpaw bustled over, her eyes huge. “Wow! I wanna do  _ that _ !”

Graystripe chuffed as Emberdawn shifted in embarrassment. “It wasn’t  _ that _ impressive… half the prey in the forest must’ve heard the vole scream.”

Her apprentice snorted, sitting back with a roll of her clear blue eyes. “That vole must be deaf, Emberdawn, with how much I was talking! You’re the best hunter in the Clan!”

“Don’t let Sandstorm hear you saying that,” Graystripe cautioned good-naturedly. Then, he glanced over at the river. “Holy StarClan, it’s frozen!”

“What?” Ember scrambled awkwardly onto a rock beside her friend, and craned her neck. Sure enough, the usually churning dark water was completely covered in a sheet of dark ice. “Oh, fuck.”

“Fuck…?” Cinderpaw jumped up beside her with only a little more difficulty than Emberdawn. “Sounds like a  _ swear _ .” She felt her pelt get hot as Graystripe turned his eyes to the two smaller cats.

“Hey, isn’t that one of the weird words your mother used?”

“ _ Nutmeg _ ,” she corrected harshly, then looked anxiously at Cinderpaw. “I grew up in Twolegplace.”

“So it’s a kittypet swear?” Her eyes glittered with mischief. “ _ Awesome _ .”

“ _ Don’t _ tell Frostfur I said it in front of you,” she begged. “Your mother will skin me alive.”

“Okay. If you teach me more of them.” Cinderpaw smirked as Emberdawn sighed in despair. 

Graystripe had peeled away from her, padding down to the river. “Hey, guys, look! I’m gonna walk on water!”

“What in  _ Silverpelt _ are you  _ doing _ ?!” Emberdawn shrieked, seeing the thin ice cracking as he slowly walked out onto it. “Come back here this  _ second _ \--!”

“I’m  _ fine _ .” Graystripe rolled his eyes. “See?” He stomped on the ice, and grinned. “Nothing to be afraid--”

The ice splintered beneath him, and the gray warrior vanished into the black water.

Emberdawn  _ screamed _ , wildly turning to Cinderpelt. “Get Yellowfang! Go,  _ now _ !”

Panicked, her apprentice streaked into the trees, and Emberdawn leapt from her rock and onto the ice. She stared through it, and then slammed her forepaws down a bit downstream of where Graystripe had fallen in, and stuck her head under the water as the ice split open. 

Gray fur washed past her, and she lunged, ignoring the cold water flooding her jaws as she barely hooked onto Graystripe’s fur and  _ pulled _ , bracing her paws against the ice and feeling it crack and she just kept  _ pulling _ against the force of the black water dragging her friend slowly from her jaws--

\-- his fur came away in a tuft, and she drew back to gasp for air just in time to see a silver tabby on the other side of the river dive in without hesitation, the thin ice giving way to allow entry to her. She vanished beneath the surface as Emberdawn gagged up what had to be half the river.

The world was horribly still, and then the ice exploded upwards again, and a molly was dragging Graystripe onto the shore. She shook the freezing droplets from her eyes and darted forward to help, heaving her massive friend onto solid ground, and turned to blink at the molly. 

“Thank you,” she wheezed, and Graystripe was sputtering, puking the other half of the river. 

The molly was gasping for air herself, but she straightened. “Is your brain the size of a minnow?! A kit could tell that ice was too thin to walk on!”

“He’s an  _ idiot _ ,” Emberdawn affirmed with a lash of her tail. “I tried to stop him.”

She glared at Graystripe. “ _ What _ were you  _ doing _ ?”

“Drowning,” the tom replied before spitting out some more water. 

“Can’t you drown on your own territory?!” The silver tabby exclaimed with a lash of her tail. 

Emberdawn decided to intervene, carefully plucking the RiverClan cat’s paw on examining it. The ice she had shattered had cut into her pads, and without preamble or an explanation, Emberdawn bathed it, trying to remove the grit from it. The molly stared at her, clearly befuddled as she began to shiver. 

“What in the name of StarClan are you doing?”

She huffed and set her paw down. “The ice damaged your pads, and the frostbite will set in fast because of your thin pelt. I sent my apprentice to fetch our medicine cat when Graystripe fell in, so you might as well wait with us instead of trying to go back to your own camp and freeze to death.”

The molly frowned, but nodded. “I’m Silverstream. And I thought you were  _ his _ apprentice?”

“Emberdawn,” she replied, licking her chest-fur to keep from hissing. “I’m a runt. You should see my littermate-- she’s almost Crookedstar’s match in size. I swear, she stole my height in the nest.”

Silverstream laughed, and Graystripe struggled to his paws dazedly. “Thanks.”

“No worries.”

Just then, Cinderpaw exploded through the brush, her eyes panicked, and Yellowfang wasn’t far behind. The old medicine cat scowled at the three warriors. “Can’t you ever keep out of trouble?” she sniped.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Cinderpaw crashed into Emberdawn, headbutting her roughly before she pulled away. “I brought Yellowfang! Are you okay?!”

Emberdawn purred. “I’m alright, Cinder, just a bit cold and wet. Nothing compared to the fur-brain over there, though.”

“Hey!” The tom present attempted to protest, but the glares of all five she-cats quickly silenced him. He pouted. “Okay, fine. I messed up.”

Silverstream laughed again, and Emberdawn shook her head. 

_ What an idiot. _

She jerked awake at midnight again.

Emberdawn rose from her nest and stared down at… herself. Sleeping. Her own form shifted, and curled tighter on herself. Emberdawn raised her gaze and looked to Ravenflight. His nest was pushed up against hers, and he shifted, muttering a complaint about the cold. She blinked fondly at the other black runt, and surveyed the other warriors.

She and Ravenflight were on the outskirts of the den, with the senior warriors in the center. Whitestorm was at the very center, with Tigerclaw not far away. Emberdawn felt her pelt crawl with fear at the mere sight of the deputy. Not  _ her _ deputy. He would  _ never _ be her deputy.

She let this happen. She let a murderer walk free.

Lionheart’s dead gaze flashed behind her eyelids.

_ I did this. _

She crept slowly out of the warrior’s den, her tail wrapped around her leg to keep from hitting anyone with it. She stepped over Sandstorm, and she was out, standing in the night-shadowed clearing. 

“I need to think rationally,” she murmured to herself, glancing around before settling in the shaodws of Highrock. It was the most private spot in the camp, after all. 

“Hello, Emberdawn.”

She jumped-- the voice was familiar, yet entirely not. The black molly looked around, accusing, until her eyes landed on a broad-chested tortoiseshell tom, his amber eyes lit with stars.

“Redtail?” she breathed.

He dipped his head. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

The last time she had seen those eyes, they were full of terror and betrayal. “I-- I’m sorry.”

Her deputy’s smile faded. “If you had tried to save me, you would have been killed yourself. It’s better this way. I would gladly die to protect my Clanmates.”

She looked down, and felt tears burn in her eyes. “I wish you were here. I wish I wasn’t a coward. I wish I could just  _ tell someone _ !”

“You’re not a coward.” His pelt brushed hers as he sat down, and glided his tail over her thick fur. “And it’s normal to be scared. All you have is the word of three cats who were apprentices scared out of their wits at the time, versus the word of the deputy who has done great things for ThunderClan.”

She felt a sob rise in her throat, but she shoved it down. “He’s gonna kill Bluestar, isn’t he?”

The tom rested his chin on her head, and she was reminded of her Da, Jake. Grief tore into her chest, and the sob broke loose. 

She was helpless-- as helpless as she had been that stormy day she woke up in her littermate’s garden. 

“Why?” she whispered, feeling pathetic. “Why am  _ I _ the one StarClan chose? I don’t want to be the prophecy cat-- I wanna be  _ Emberdawn _ .”

“I know.” Redtail sighed deeply. “I know.”

When she stopped crying, she quietly began to recount everything she knew.

“Tigerclaw murdered you, but Dustpelt, Ravenflight, and I saw it. We were too scared to come forward about it. Moons later, ShadowClan attacks-- probably assisted by Tigerclaw. Lionheart is killed, but we win. Tigerclaw probably wants to be the leader, so Bluestar would have to die… he’ll kill her if I can’t stop him.”

Redtail nodded gently. 

“How in StarClan’s name am I supposed to  _ stop _ him?”

A week later, Emberdawn and Cinderpaw were walking back into camp. The latter carried a sparrow clamped tightly in her jaws and the former looked as if she was about to explode with pride. Ravenflight padded up with a purr, his tail curling.

“First catch, huh?” he prodded, and Cinderpaw meowed a muffled “Yes!” behind the bird. “Not bad. Add it to the fresh-kill pile.”

He fell into step with Emberdawn, and she looked at him softly for a moment. He chuffed happily when he noticed what she was holding, and she finally managed to speak when she deposited her catches into the fresh-kill pile. “Found a whole nest of them by the Owltree,” she bragged, eyes aflame with pride and delight. “And Cinderpaw snatched the sparrow right out of the air! You should’ve seen it.”

“Emberdawn,” the apprentice complained with a roll of her eyes. “It’s old and stringy… it wasn’t  _ that _ good of a catch.”

As her mentor, Emberdawn was rightly offended by the declaration, and cuffed Cinderpaw around the ears. “I haven’t managed to catch a bird like that since my leg got messed up! Besides, any prey is good prey.”

“Unless it’s crow-food, of course.”

Her littermate padded up, pale brown tabby pelt fluffed against the biting air. “Sweetheart,” the black huntress purred, trotting over to greet her. “What did Bluestar say about the Gathering tonight?”

“We’re going.” Sweetheart’s leaf-green eyes gleamed with pride. “Me, you, and Ravenflight are all going.”

“What about Dirtstripe?” Ravenflight smirked at the nickname. 

“He’s staying back, with Dustpelt, Whitestorm, and a pawful of others. All the apprentices are coming so Bluestar can announce their apprenticeships.”

“Sweetheart!” Longtail was rushing up, a dopey grin on his face as he practically crashed into the molly. “Hey, I heard you were going to the Gathering. Tell me about it when you get back, alright?”

“I will!” She laughed, and Emberdawn eyed him for a moment. Longtail… he’d changed. He’d been cold and dismissive to the two sisters at first, but now he didn’t seem to have a problem with them at all. She  _ wanted _ to get along with him, but…

… every time she tried, she felt the phantom of a collar around her throat, and her lungs refused to suck in air. It wasn’t Longtail’s fault. It wasn’t his fault, but Emberdawn didn’t know if she would ever be able to trust him.

Swiftpaw darted up, his golden eyes bright with excitement. “Hey, Longtail! Hey, guess what?”

“What’s up, ‘paw?” The pale tabby raised a brow conspiratorially. 

“Bluestar said I could stay behind with you! So you can teach me how to fight Twolegs-- and their stupid dogs, too!”

Longtail purred, and his eyes crinkled. “I sure will. You better go say goodbye to the other apprentices, the moon’s gonna rise in--”

“ThunderClan! To me!”

Bluestar’s yowl cut off whatever Longtail was going to say, and Sweetheart pressed her nose to his in a quick goodbye. Dazedly, Emberdawn watched, a storm of emotions in her gut. Confusion, mostly. She’d been feeling a lot of that lately, between trying to mentor Cinderpaw and figuring out how she might be able to protect Bluestar, because Darkstripe was clearly  _ in _ on whatever Tigerclaw had planned so she didn’t trust him as far as the mouse-brain could fly.

Deciding to set  _ that _ problem off for tomorrow’s Emberdawn to ignore until it boiled over, because she was a master at ignoring her problems, she padded after her leader, Ravenflight falling into step beside her.

“So,” he murmured conversationally, as they were in the back end of the group headed to the Gathering, “they’re close.”

Ah, Silverpelt. Turns out this was a problem for today’s Emberdawn. She frowned, casting her gaze aside. “Yeah…” 

“You don’t seem too happy about it.”

“I’m… I’m not sure  _ what _ I think about it,” she confessed. “What if they end up as  _ mates _ and have  _ kits _ !? After all those hateful things he said to us when we were barely out of the nursery? Because of where we were born, no less… I just can’t take his kindness at face value, and I feel like a bad person because of it!”

Ravenflight nosed her cheek gently, and her fur-- which had been rising without her knowledge-- smoothed at the comforting gesture. “It’s okay. He said some pretty terrible stuff, and he never apologized to you for it. But when you and Graystripe were gone, he apologized to  _ her _ … and they just ended up like that.”

Emberdawn frowned at her paws as she clambered over a fallen branch, looking up through the leafless branches. “We’re just… it feels like everything is finally catching up to me. I can’t ignore  _ it _ anymore.”

The tom’s eyes widened, understanding the emphasis. 

She didn’t say anything else until they arrived at the Gathering. 


	12. Fire and Ice: IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gathering, and Emberdawn can’t seem to stop finding secrets.

“I can’t believe it’s only been a bit over a half-moon since we got our warrior names,” Sweetheart mused aloud, and Emberdawn nodded empathetically.

“It feels so much  _ longer _ . With the WindClan mission and Cinderpaw, it has to have been at  _ least _ two moons!”

Ravenflight barked out a laugh, his tail curling. “Speaking of your apprentice, you should hear what she’s telling the RiverClan cats.”

“Huh?” The black huntress turned, angling her ears to where she saw her apprentice sitting, surrounded by amused-looking RiverClan warriors. 

“-- and fell in! Emberdawn-- she’s my mentor-- she ran up and broke the ice open with her  _ head _ and stuck it into the  _ freezing cold river _ ! I saw because I looked back a couple times. And when I could see her through the trees again, she and Silverstream were pulling Graystripe out like it was  _ nothing _ ! Emberdawn was still half choking up water but she still helped haul that great ball of fur up, and he’s not a small cat--!”

“I’m sure Graystripe would  _ love _ to hear you gossiping about how many mice he eats with RiverClan.” Emberdawn purred as she interrupted Cinderpaw’s commentary. The apprentice yelped, then grinned widely. 

“Emberdawn! Can you tell me? Please, please?”

“Tell you what?” She tilted her head, pretending she had no idea what Cinderpaw was talking about.

“How did you know Graystripe was gonna fall through?!”

Ah, she thought her apprentice was going to ask about kittypet swears again. “The ice was pretty see-through, Cinderpaw,” she explained simply. “If you cans ee the dark water beneath the ice, it’s way too thin to walk on. Besides, a deaf Twoleg could hear it creaking under his paws.”

That earned a purr from a brown tom, who she recognized as Oakheart. His eyes shone with amusement. “Your apprentice here has been regaling us with tales of your achievements. Like how you rescued her and her littermates from Brokenstar.”

Her pelt prickled hotly with embarassment. She laughed, anxious. “All I did was do what any warrior would have done…”

“Nuh-uh!” Cinderpaw jumped up, her blue eyes wide with indignance. “You convinced a  _ ShadowClan _ cat to go against their leader and protect us and then went nose-to-nose with Brokenstar himself, after tearing his deputy to shreds! You have to be the  _ strongest _ \--”

Blessedly, the gray she-cat’s rant was cut off by a yowl from Tallstar, who stood, well,  _ tall _ over the Gathering, perched upon the Great Rock.

“I would like to begin this Gathering by saying WindClan has come back to the moors. We have used the past quarter-moon as a grace period for those cats who chose to ignore this and attempt to hunt on our territory, but after tonight, they will be chased out and treated as the intruders and prey-thieves they are. To continue, WindClan has regained a great majority of our strength, and despite leaf-bare’s cold winds, we remain well-fed.”

He sat again, and Nightpelt stood, his eyes raking over the Gathered cats. 

“Brokenstar has been driven out. I will make my journey to the Moonstone in two sunrises. ShadowClan has recovered well. Prey is no longer as scarce as it was, but we give a warning; some of Brokenstar’s rogues have been scented near the borders, particularly near Twolegplace. That is all.”

Crookedstar stood before Nightpelt even had a chance to sit, fixing his gaze on something in the distance before saying, “This moon, Whiteclaw has joined StarClan. Fortunately, this was the only misfortune to befall RiverClan, because as always, the river is full of fish.”

Finally, Bluestar straightened. All murmurs hushed, even though she was sitting with her tail tucked neatly over her paws. Emberdawn looked up at her leader admiringly; only she could command a crowd like that.

Her voice was soft, yet powerful, and it carried to every cat. 

“Brokenstar ordered his warrior, Clawface, to steal kits from ThunderClan.” There was an audible gasp, but she pressed on. “Clawface stole Frostfur’s kits and murdered Spottedleaf as he made his escape. Three of our cats were sent along with Yellowfang to track him. With help from a second ThunderClan battle patrol, ShadowClan and ThunderClan drove out Brokenstar and his rogues. Emberdawn and Sweetheart earned their warrior names for the rescue of the kits.”

The cheers of the littermate’s names spread across the Gathering like wildfire, and as Emberdawn looked up, embarrassed, she saw Fernshade looking over at her. The queen nodded approvingly, and Emberdawn beamed.

“Not long after, Emberdawn and an apprentice were sent to track WindClan and bring them home, and they did so successfully. The apprentice has been named Graystripe.”

Graystripe’s name went up in an even louder roar, especially from the WindClan cats, who seemed just as excited as Emberdawn had been for her friend.

“Frostfur and Goldenflower’s kits have been apprenticed as Swiftpaw, Cinderpaw, Brightpaw, Thornpaw, and Brackenpaw.” When the chants died down, she meowed, “That is all. Thank you.”

The Gathering began to disperse, and Cinderpaw stuck to her side like a burr. She grinned, eyes gleaming.

“I  _ told _ you. It was really cool and heroic!”

Emberdawn only managed an incomprehensible protest before burying her face in her own chest-fur (the perks of being fluffy) and refusing to talk to anyone for the rest of the night.

Graystripe had been looking  _ exhausted _ lately, and Emberdawn wanted to know  _ why _ . With her insomnia, it was perfectly excusable, but Graystripe? He was vanishing from camp and dodged questions and acted like nothing was wrong when clearly, something  _ was _ .

It was…  _ frustrating _ .

Sandstorm and Emberdawn faced each other as their respective apprentices, Brackenpaw and Cinderpaw, watched.

“Alright, we’re going to be showing you some basic moves,” Sandstorm meowed simply. “Emberdawn’s moves will be slightly different from mine on account of her shoulder, but you should still learn them. The smallest change in a fighting style can tilt the battle in your favor.”

Emberdawn licked her muzzle, her fur spiked. She was  _ quite _ fluffy, and it served her well. Anyone that saw her fully fluffed would assume she was bigger than she actually was, and she could slip under most of their attacks.

The pale ginger molly across from her was broad-shouldered, almost as tall as Sweetheart and every bit as muscular. She towered over Emberdawn easily, but there was a wariness in her eyes betraying that she knew exactly how dangerous the runt was.

Sandstorm pounced first, aiming for her paws, and Emberdawn leapt aside, cuffing her friend over the ears roughly as she did so, rearing back onto her hind legs to reach. Sandstorm kicked at one of her hind legs, and she dropped back onto all fours will a huff. The larger molly slammed into her, and she went sprawling. It took a moment to scramble to her paws, but Sandstorm was already upon her. She opened her jaws and went up--

\--and the two ended up with their teeth gently clamped in each other’s scruff.

They parted with a laugh, and Emberdawn looked at the two apprentices. “What techniques did you see, and why did they work or not work?”

Brackenpaw flicked his tail before he spoke. “Um… Sandstorm went for your front paws, but it didn’t work because you saw what she was doing, right?”

She nodded. “What else?”

“You got up on your hind legs to box at her ears! It worked a little bit,” Cinderpaw added with a grin. “But it also left your belly exposed and she kicked out your legs to unbalance you.”

“And Sandstorm crashed into you, which worked because she’s bigger.”

Sandstorm purred. “That’s a good start. Can you tell me why me kicking out Emberdawn’s legs didn’t work very well?”

The two traded looks, and Emberdawn sighed fondly. 

“I’m used to being unbalanced,” she explained gently. “Cats like me and Deadfoot, WindClan’s deputy, are harder to throw off-balance because we’re used to righting ourselves quickly if we fall. Similarly, Sandstorm could still catch a mouse if she stepped on a twig-- it’s hard, but she’s good at it because she’s done it so often.”

“Are you implying I step on twigs a lot?!”

“Never,” Emberdawn purred. “Cinderpaw, attack me.”

Her apprentice jumped. “Huh? Me?”

“Yep. Grab my scruff with your teeth or pin me. Brackenpaw, do the same with Sandstorm.” The two pairs went to opposite sides of the sandy hollow, and Cinderpaw stood opposite of her dark-furred mentor.

There was a heartbeat, and Cinderpaw leapt at Emberdawn.

She reared up and slammed her forepaws onto the gray she-cat’s shoulders, forcing her to the ground. Cinderpaw sputtered. “Wha?”

“You leapt too high,” Emberdawn mewed simply. “If you go too high, it’s easy to slam them back down. Leaping low is best, and if you need to leap high-- like to jump onto a cat’s shoulders-- you should do it at close-range, or as an ambush. Jumping straight at a ShadowClan warrior like that will have you pinned in heartbeats. Let’s go again.”

She huffed, backing away. This time, to her credit, she leapt lower and headbutted Emberdawn in the chest. The huntress frowned and drove her own head forward, latching onto the apprentice’s scruff.

This time, Cinderpaw didn’t ask. Emberdawn just told her.

“If you manage to get in that close, headbutt them in the throat, hard-- it will stun them, if you’re lucky, but you should use that moment to get behind or on top of them. A nose-to-nose battle is a fair battle, and fair battles are never won.”

She nodded resolutely. “Okay, I wanna try again.”

The sun was high over the forest, and both apprentice and mentor were panting. The latter’s chest swelled with pride, as her apprentice had managed to best her a few times. 

“Alright, you should spend that energy you always seem to have on hunting. Head by the Owltree,” she directed tiredly, and Cinderpaw grinned. “Head back to camp before sunset to eat, though.”

“Yes, Emberdawn!” Her gray pelt vanished into the brush, and Emberdawn huffed, exhausted. How Cinderpaw had so much energy, she’d never understand. 

A different gray pelt flickered at the edges of her vision, and she turned just in time to see Graystripe slipping through the brush, for once oking serious but also very suspicious.

Emberdawn narrowed her eyes and lookingerious but also rather suspicious. She frowned deeply, and flattened her ears. Her day had been long, and the leaf-bare chill was clinging to her pelt, but she had energy enough to silently creep after him through the barren woodlands.

Graystripe padded easily through the trees, glancing over his shoulder now and then. But Emberdawn kept out of sight, and followed as closely behind as she dared.

He made his way to Sunningrocks.

A silver cat slipped into the dark water on the RiverClan side, and emerged a few heartbeats later again, shaking the water from their pelt.

_ Silverstream _ .

She padded up to Graystripe, and he purred loud enough for StarClan to hear. Emberdawn froze, her heart and paws like lead. They brushed muzzles, and Emberdawn  _ snarled _ .

Graystripe nearly leapt out of his fur, and Silverstream had the decency to look guilty as the black she-cat stalked out of the brush, her face twisted in fury and betrayal.

“What have you  _ done _ ?” she hissed, her fur bristling and tail lashing.

Graystripe ducked his head, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. “I, um…”

Silverstream looked aside. “I should go…”

“You’re right, you  _ should _ go,” Emberdawn snapped in return. “But it’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”

The silver tabby’s ears flattened. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

It took all of her remaining self-control to not launch herself at the idiotic molly, but instead she curled her lip. “The damage has been done. Graystripe, there’s a garlic patch that’s still alive near the training hollow. Gather some of that for Yellowfang, I’m sure she has some use for it. It’ll cover your scent.”

He stared at her with confused amber eyes. “Why are you  _ helping _ me?”

“Because I’m your Clanmate.” She felt herself deflate a bit. “My duty is to my  _ Clan _ . Something  _ you _ forgot.” He flinched, but she ignored it. “Go. I’m going to have a  _ talk _ with your…  _ mate _ .”

He gave her a worried look, but she nodded simply, and he ran into the bushes.

Emberdawn stared flatly at Silverstream. Neither she-cat spoke for a long, long time.

“You called him your Clanmate instead of your friend.” The RiverClan molly’s voice was sad.

“Friends don’t make each other worried about their health when they’re actually breaking the warrior code,” she responded icily. “I’m going to make this  _ absolutely _ clear to you. We are not friends, but Graystripe is like a brother to me. He was the one to introduce my littermate and I to ThunderClan, he’s the entire reason I’m standing here today. But I don’t support… this. It can only end badly unless one of you plans on switching Clans, and I will happily tear Graystripe to shreds if he betrays us like that.” Silverstream flinched hard. “I want you to think carefully about this. Next Gathering, tell me your decision. If you want to do the right thing and break it off, then I will help cover for you. If you want to come to ThunderClan, I will vouch for you. But if you want to continue the way things are, I will  _ not _ help you. I won’t tell anyone, but when someone finds out and you two end up in hot water, I’m not going to stand up for either of you. Family or not.”

The molly looked at her paws. “Okay.” Her voice was fragile, but not broken. She nodded, apparently regaining some of her confidence, and smiled weakly. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.”

Emberdawn turned, her bad paw aching from the cold, and limped home. If she saw Yellowfang sighing at the pile of garlic Graystripe had brought her, all she did was make a well-received joke about it and pointedly ignore the gray tom.

After all,  _ she _ was a loyal ThunderClan cat. 

A ThunderClan cat that had just been  _ betrayed _ .

She picked at a stringy robin before giving the rest to Sandstorm, who had just returned from sunset patrol, and stalked into the warrior’s den. She completely abandoned her nest, ripping into shreds and giving it to the queens for any kits to play with, and collapsed into Ravenflight’s nest with a dramatic huff. He cracked an eyelid to glare playfully at her.

“Old time’s sake,” she muttered rebelliously, and curled around her thin-furred friend. With that, the two runts drifted off to sleep.


	13. Fire and Ice: V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ravenflight is concerned, Sweetheart is excited, and Emberdawn can’t catch a fucking break.

“Talk to me, Emberdawn.”

The sharp scent of Tallpines, usually so comforting, felt invasive as Ravenflight and Emberdawn faced each other. They had come out here to hunt, and snow was drifting around them, clinging to their fur and chased away by misted breath. The frost had hit hard the night before, and the snow was driving prey underground. 

Brindleface had kitted recently; two of her male kits, Leapkit and Shardkit, were sick with greencough, and there simply wasn’t enough prey for Brindleface to produce the amount of milk needed to keep all four of them strong, no matter what Yellowfang did. Emberdawn had promised to hunt all day to find something to add to the fresh-kill pile.

In the present, though, she avoided Ravenflight’s eyes. Instead, she stared at the scrawny crow she had barely managed to creep up on that was now laying dead at her paws. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

He sighed, but when she looked up, Emberdawn saw the concern in his eyes. She looked away again. “You don’t share nests with  _ anyone _ unless something’s bothering you. Not that I’m complaining I have my old nest buddy back, but I’m worried.”

She was silent for a long, long time. It wasn’t her secret to share… but she didn’t have to  _ tell him _ what was going on, not entirely. Just… enough.

“Somebody I trusted went against the warrior code. Betrayed ThunderClan, even.” Ravenflight sucked in a breath. “And… it made me think about what would happen if anyone ever found out about it. They would be treated like Sweetheart and I were when we first joined, but  _ worse _ , and I don’t want that for them. And this… this cat was someone I had thought I could lean on, but they’re too stubborn to realize how much they’re risking.”

He frowned, and then padded to her side, gently pressing his flank against hers. “I can’t say I understand… but I trust you. You’ve always done the right thing before.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and rested her head on Ravenflight’s shoulders. After a few heartbeats, she pulled away, shaking the snow from her fur with a snort. “Come on, fur-brain. We have to keep hunting. Brindleface’s kits need to stay strong.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, and flicked his ear. “I’ll bury this for you.”

“Thanks.”

Emberdawn turned and padded away, determined to find more prey for ThunderClan. A scrawny crow wouldn’t cut it.

Deep in the soft fur of her ears, she felt a tiny heartbeat. Immediately, she pressed herself into the snowy earth. Her flame-colored eyes flicked across the drifts, scanning the near-silent forest around her.

_ There! _

A tiny nose poked out from under a snow-drift, and Emberdawn held her breath. She was just  _ barely _ downwind of it.

The rabbit crept out of its warren, nose twitching as it looked around with berry-bright eyes. The faint smell of milk drifted to her-- a mother rabbit, but the scent was old enough to mean the rabbit kits were almost full-grown. 

She could hardly  _ believe _ her luck.

Its eyes fixed on something beneath a nearby tree, and it hopped over, leaning down to paw through the litter of pine needles and snow. It kept pawing until it revealed a young plant.

_ Borage _ ! Emberdawn’s eyes widened, understanding the importance of the herb, and launched herself at the rabbit, killing it with a bite to the back of the neck that snapped it like a brittle twig. She relished the taste of blood on her tongue, but hurriedly buried the rabbit underneath the snow and crept back to the warren from which it had emerged.

_ Three _ young rabbits were sleeping inside, but they woke up too late to escape, as Emberdawn was upon them in heartbeats. One squealed in fear loud enough for  _ WindClan _ to hear, and she flattened her ears in frustration-- that must have scared off all the prey in Tallpines!

One by one, she dragged the rabbits out, burying them with the mother rabbit, and looked around warily. Waiting.

Soon enough, Ravenflight emerged from the scant brush, his eyes glowing as he saw her. “I found this nasty pile of carrion that the Twolegs dumped near the tiny Thunderpath they have over there.” To prove his point, he gestured with his tail over in the general direction of Twolegplace. As he got closer, something rank hit Emberdawn’s nose, and she gagged.

“ _ Ugh _ . I can tell… please don’t say you ate the carrion.”

“Of course not!” He looked offended by the mere  _ idea _ of it. “I was gonna say there were some fat rats eating on it. Three of them, actually.” He licked his chest with a smug look. “And they weren’t as awful as every cat claims rats are. They’re just bigger mice.”

“And uglier,” she agreed reluctantly. “I found a rabbit warren. And borage! Yellowfang will be pleased with me.”

The black tom snorted with a roll of his eyes. “What is it with you and medicine cats? Honestly, every medicine cat ThunderClan’s had since you arrived has mothered you.”

She purred in amusement, shoving away the soul-rending grief she still carried. “I know… maybe it’s just because I never really knew my Ma. I  _ knew _ her, obviously. I  _ remember _ her. But I never got to know her.”

“What was her name?” he asked, pawing at the snow beneath a wilted fern, pulling out the crow. 

“Nutmeg. I saw her again on the mission Graystripe and I went on… she looks exactly like Princess, you know? Except her eyes. Princess got Da’s eyes, but I got hers.”

“Your Da-- you’ve never talked about him before.” Ravenflight’s eyes were curious as she led him to the spot she had buried the rabbits. 

Emberdawn pawed at the snow and carefully removed the first rabbit, letting Ravenflight pick it up along with the crow. “I knew him better than I knew Nutmeg. His name was Jake.”

“Did he live in the same nest as you?” He mumbled through the fresh-kill.

“Nah,” she meowed with a shake of her head, hesitating to pick up another rabbit. “He was a kittypet for a while, but he was a loner before that, and after. Jake was pretty cool… he’d been to the moors, hunted with some Clan cats. Pretty sure he was mates with a tom named Pine for a while, who left the Clans. I always wanted to be like him.”

They were mostly quiet for the rest of the time, as it took several trips to haul back their prey. When she was finally dragging back the mother rabbit and the borage, Yellowfang greeted them.

“Not half bad, kitty,” she meowed gruffly, prodding the delicate leaves. “I know you’re not close with her, but Bluestar was asking after you two. Then Sweetheart and Longtail wanted to talk with you. Getting popular, huh?” The old molly rolled her eyes, taking the borage. “And do me a favor and bring this rabbit to Brindleface.”

“Why? I mean, of course I’ll do it, it’s my duty,” she hurried to tack on, “but is she okay?”

Yellowfang glanced around and set the borage outside her den, stopping in the entrance. “Leapkit joined StarClan just after sunrise. Shardkit doesn’t have long left, either.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.” Ravenflight’s mew was heavy. “How are Fernkit and Ashkit taking it?”

“Ashkit doesn’t really understand… they’ve been sick since they were born, practically, so he won’t be dramatically affected. Fernkit’s been taking it hard, though.”

Emberdawn nodded, hauling the rabbit towards the nursery. She poked her head in and saw Brindleface huddled in her nest with dull eyes, curled around the two gray kits at her belly. The tabby queen’s eyes were dulled by grief. 

“I brought you something,” she mumbled around the rabbit, setting it in front of her. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch anything sooner.”

She lifted herself from the nest, staring at the rabbit blankly. Then, she smiled gently, despite the sorrow in her eyes. “Thank you, Emberdawn. And it’s not your fault… StarClan called for them, and one day I’ll see them again.”

“They were lucky to have a mother like you,” she mewed in reply. “I didn’t know mine very well.”

It was an olive branch. An offer, really. Brindleface’s gaze warmed slightly, and she purred. “Come by whenever you like, alright? I’m sure every older molly in the Clan has mothered you at some point, but I take it you haven’t heard many of the stories we tell our kits.”

“I haven’t,” she agreed. “I’ll be sure to come by at some point and listen.” 

With that, Emberdawn licked the queen’s ear as a goodbye and exited the nursery, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. She’d made someone’s grief a little easier to bear, and that was enough for her.

There was a noticeable lack of Darkstripe as she padded to the den in the side of the Highrock, twitching her ears. She brushed aside the lichen, peering into the darkness. A wheezing cough greeted her.

“Don’t come any closer.” Bluestar stood shakily, her blue eyes flashing in the dim light. “You came.”

“Of course,” she meowed, apprehensive. Her leader was  _ sick _ . 

She blinked slowly, and coughed once more before saying, “As you can see, I’ve come down with greencough. I was around the nursery and caught it from Shardkit… I’m sure you know I’m not the energetic warrior I once was.”

“You’re dying.” Her voice was flat, and despite her leader’s wishes, Emberdawn slipped into the den, nosing Bluestar’s hot fur before backing away again. 

“I am.” Bluestar’s tone was heavy. “And after this, I will have only one life left.”

“Why are you telling me this?”  _ and not Tigerclaw _ , was left unsaid. 

Still, Bluestar regarded her with a sort of respect in her eyes. At last, she meowed, “Many moons ago, before you and Sweetheart battled Graystripe at our border, Spottedleaf received an omen after a terrible defeat at Sunningrocks. Fire alone will save our Clan.”

The words echoed in her mind. She’d heard those words in her dreams, repeated by cats that had long since died. She bit back a gasp.

“I saw your eyes after you fought Longtail-- I saw your determination in them, and I saw how they looked like twin flames,” the old molly continued. “So I named you Emberpaw. And since then, ThunderClan has prospered and in no small part credited to you. You saved our kits and looked for the truth where others searched for vengeance. And I trust you.”

Her eyes burned with tears. “Thank you, Bluestar.”

Bluestar nodded, then sighed. “What is troubling you so?”

She jolted, and looked away. This was her chance. Her chance to tell ThunderClan’s leader everything, to get the weight off her chest and finally be free of Tigerclaw. Sucking in a deep breath, she told her, “Oakheart didn’t kill Redtail. The wounds he left on him weren’t deep enough to kill.”

Bluestar’s eyes widened. “Then who--”

“Are you done yet? Tigerclaw told me to bring you some fresh-kill.” Darkstripe shoved his way in and dumped one of the young rabbits Emberdawn had caught unceremoniously on the earth. He curled his lip at Emberdawn. “What’re you doing in here, kittypet? Looking to kill our leader?”

“Darkstripe,” Bluestar bit out sharply. “That is  _ enough _ . She was invited here. Emberdawn, we can speak again later.”

“Yes, Bluestar.” She bowed her head hurriedly, and rushed out, her fur on end. How much had Darkstripe heard? He would certainly tell Tigerclaw about what she said,  _ Emberdawn _ could be his next victim--

_ Stop thinking like that _ . She could almost  _ hear _ Redtail’s gently chastising voice.  _ If he tries to eliminate you, Bluestar will know who did it. She’s a smart cat. _

“Hey, Emberdawn!”

Her littermate was padding over with a ridiculously big smile, her tail twined with Longtail’s. Emberdawn shot a wary look at the pale tabby before returning her attention to Sweetheart. “Hi?”

Sweetheart was smiling bright enough to rival the sun as she mewed, “I’m going to have kits!”

There was a moment as Emberdawn registered the words.  _ Kits? Sweetheart? Kits, that means-- oh, fuck, she’s pregnant. _

“Longtail, you’re dead,” she said flatly. The tom jumped, his thin fur spiking in surprise.

“You’re supposed to be  _ happy _ for me!” Sweetheart whined, traipsing over to her sister and practically throwing her full body on the black huntress. “Not threatening my mate!”

Emberdawn glowered at Longtail despite practically being chickened by her significantly larger sister. “As if I didn’t  _ already _ have enough to worry about,” she groused. 

“You’ll be an  _ aunt _ , remember? Please, please don’t kill him?” Her pleading green eyes stared down at Emberdawn, and she huffed in annoyance. 

“ _ Fine _ , but if he says one wrong thing about non-Clanborn cats, I’ll rip into him. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Longtail mewed in a small voice, perfectly cowed by a molly that didn’t even come up to his shoulder. 

“ _ Good _ .”

Ravenflight greeted her at the entrance of the warrior den, contentedly offering to share one of the rats he’d caught with her. “Who put a bee in your nest?” he meowed good-naturedly.

Deciding not to tell him about Bluestar’s illness-- that was something her leader trusted her with, and she wasn’t going to betray that trust-- she growled, “Sweetheart’s pregnant.”

“That’s… a good thing, right?”

“It’s a  _ great _ thing,” Emberdawn sighed in frustration. “But  _ Longtail _ .”

“He hasn’t made fun of you since your early apprentice days,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, but that’s not the  _ point _ . He’s Tigerclaw’s friend and I worry for Sweetheart.”

The black tom nudged her away from the now-bare bones of the rat. “Go to our nest and  _ sleep _ . It’s been a long day for everyone.”

She sighed and padded into the den before collapsing into the nest she and Ravenflight shared, wreathed in his scent as she let her eyes drift shut.

“Kitty! Kitty,  _ wake up _ !”

Yellowfang’s growl snatched Emberdawn from a pleasant dream. She looked around hazily. “Wha’?”

“Not here! With me, to my den.”

The sun had risen already, and after a quick headcount Emberdawn determined Tigerclaw and some of her Clanmates were off on dawn patrol. She blinked blearily, following Yellowfang to the medicine den.

Bluestar was huddled in one of the nests, and she  _ reeked _ of sickness. 

“She’s getting worse, and after she lost a life last night she was too weak to fight it from coming back.” The old medicine cat’s mew was grave, and her chest caught.

“But then-- this is her last life,” she mewed despairingly. If she died, Tigerclaw would be the leader of ThunderClan-- and she couldn’t let that happen. Her tail lashed. “Isn’t there a way to cure her?”

“There is only one herb, but the cold has all but destroyed it in the forest. Catmint.”

_ Catmint _ ? “You mean fucking catnip?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “The stuff Twolegs give to kittypets to make them go fluff-brained?”

“Twolegs use it?” Yellowfang’s voice was surprised for a moment before she shook her head. “Yes, it will make a cat… out of sorts, but it’s the best treatment for greencough.”

She sighed softly, and gave an anxious look to Bluestar’s sick form. “I know a place,” she meowed hesitantly. “But I have to go to Twolegplace.”

“Do it-- please,” the medicine cat tacked on, her amber eyes wide with surprised delight. “Get as much as you can, but  _ don’t eat it _ .”

“Yes, Yellowfang.”

She dodged out of the medicine den, only to nearly run face-first into Darkstripe.

“Where’s Bluestar?”

Emberdawn bit back the truth. “Busy. What?”

“Are  _ you _ the deputy,  _ kittypet _ ?”

She glared at him. “No, but I’m a respected member of your Clan that knows the whereabouts of our leader and can relay a message.  _ What _ ?”

He curled his lip, and grit out, “Tigerclaw found evidence of ShadowClan planning a raid by the Thunderpath, he needs Bluestar to see it.”

“Get Whitestorm or something,” she growled in return, though her fur prickled. “Send someone to tell him to just come here.”

“I can’t just disobey my  _ deputy _ \--”

“I’ll do it!”

Cinderpaw’s brave meow broke into their argument, and Emberdawn stared at her apprentice, wide-eyed.

“I’m fast,” she said confidently, her tail raised high. “I can do it.”

“No.” The huntress knew her voice came out harsh, but fear crawled up her throat. Tigerclaw was  _ not _ to be trusted, especially by someone Emberdawn cared about. What if he knew Emberdawn knew what he did? What if he took it out on Cinderpaw? What if he got angry Bluestar didn’t arrive and killed Cinderpaw? “Stay in camp. I’ll tell him.”

“But aren’t you going to get the--”

Ignoring how Cinderpaw was probably eavesdropping on her conversation (she would need to give a few lessons on how to hide knowledge of situations later, she ground out, “I am. But I can  _ handle _ it. Please, just stay in camp.”

Her blue eyes were worried as Emberdawn ran out of the thorn tunnel.

Obviously, the catmint took priority over whatever Tigerclaw needed. She kind of doubted ShadowClan was up to anything, due to the lack of hostility between their Clans since Brokenstar was driven out. So what did he want? What was going on?

Those thoughts cluttered her mind as she padded her way through Tallpines, keeping an eye out on the sky. It was just after dawn, and the frost on the grass crunched beneath her paws.

The Twolegplace came into view, as did the pair of cats perched on the fences closest to the forest. A black-and-white tom, and a brown tabby she-kit.

“Hello,” she meowed in greeting. The she-kit squeaked in alarm, her eyes blowing wide, so Emberdawn turned her attention to the tom. “Do you know where I can find some catnip?”

The tom stared at her, gaping. “You’re a forest cat!”

“Yes,” she agreed warily. “Catnip, please? Point me to a plant?”

“I can show you! I’m Smudge!”

She flattened her ears warily. “Could you just grab some leaves and bring them here? I don’t want to spend more time in the Twolegplace than I have to.”  _ Smudge… where have I heard that name before? _

He shrugged. “Sure, just don’t eat me or Hattie, thanks!”

With that parting message, Smudge leapt down and vanished into his garden. The she-kit-- likely Hattie-- and Emberdawn watched each other.

“Do wild cats really eat other cats?”

“What? No, that’s… horrible.” She cringed, flattening her ears further. “We hunt for mice and birds and other small creatures. Sometimes warriors like me go hungry, though, because we always feed our elders and queens first.”

“What’s a queen?”

“A molly that’s expecting or nursing kits.”

Hattie’s tail shot up. “That sounds super cool! Why do you need catnip, though?”

“It’s… an herb that can cure a very bad sickness.”

Just then, Smudge reappeared, his jaws full of tender green leaves. He jumped onto her side of the fence-- the forest, obviously-- and set them down. “My housefolk keep a plant of it on a high-up shelf. They think I can’t reach it,” he mewed proudly. 

“Thanks,” she mewed, gently picking it up and waving her tail to say goodbye before rocketing into the underbrush.

It didn’t take long to drop off the herbs near the camp entrance where Yellowfang was sure to find them, and start heading towards the ShadowClan border.

She had to meet Tigerclaw and figure out what he was planning.

The Thunderpath had just barely come into her line-of-sight when a bloodcurdling screech made her heart quicken. 

Tigerclaw stood beside the Thunderpath, his face impassive. 

Cinderpaw was in the middle of the Thunderpath, her face twisted with agony, her hind leg warped beyond understanding.

Emberdawn couldn’t hear the distant roar of another monster incoming over the roar of her pulse in her ears as she ran onto the black, foul-smelling stone and scooped up her apprentice, ignoring her wailing shoulder. She saw its glaring eyes and smelled its horrid, round paws as it barely missed her tail when she hurtled back over to the grass on ThunderClan territory. Her breath came in gasps, and for once, she didn’t spare Tigerclaw a second thought as she nosed her apprentice desperately. 

“Ember?”

“Yeah, Cinder, I’m here.” She slipped into the nickname easily, her heart in her throat as she glanced at Tigerclaw. “Get Yellowfang  _ now _ , or you’ll be nothing but a red smear on the Thunderpath!” she threatened, curling her lips to display her teeth for the second time that day.

The deputy (not her deputy,  _ never _ her deputy) seemed genuinely shocked by her threat, and he nodded numbly, running into the brush.

Cinderpaw’s eyes were glazed with pain, and Emberdawn pressed herself to her apprentice’s side. “I always thought… it was funny… our names matched,” she mumbled thickly. “But… embers start fires, and cinders are what’s left when they’re over.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she hissed. “You’re going to  _ live _ , so help me StarClan, because I am  _ not _ letting you die.”

“It  _ hurts _ .” Her whimper tore into Emberdawn’s chest, and she curled closer to Cinderpaw.

“I know. I know. Believe me, I know. It hurts so bad, and you think you’re going to die… but I promise you, you won’t.” Memories dragged themselves up, and for the first time, she spoke about them, trying to keep her apprentice coherent. “When I was a kitten, I lived with Twolegs. When a Twoleg adopted me, which is what it’s called when a Twoleg takes a kit from their mother, they were very cruel to me. They kicked me around a lot, and one time, they kicked me really hard in the shoulder, which broke it and strained the ligaments. The Cutter, a Twoleg medicine cat, fixed it up as best as they could, but it never healed right. Moons later, I hit it wrong when I was fighting, and the ligaments were strained again, and that combined with the way my leg hadn’t healed right the first time, I ended up with a limp that I’m going to have for the rest of my life.”

For a moment, there was nothing except Cinderpaw’s labored breathing. “You never told me that,” she managed.

“I’ve never told anyone. But I promise you, I’ll make sure you are every inch the warrior I am. Even if your leg doesn’t heal right.”

“Promise?”

“I swear it on my honor as a ThunderClan cat.”

Cinderpaw smiled weakly, and Emberdawn licked her head gently, soothingly. She absolutely  _ refused  _ to let her apprentice’s potential go to waste.

Tigerclaw’s indifferent face flashed in her mind, and her blood flowed cold with her anger. 

_ He did this. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all pls leave comments, they validate me


	14. Fire and Ice: VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cinderpaw’s fate, Sweetheart’s family, and Emberdawn avenges her pseudo-mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of Fire and Ice, y’all. Hope you like it, because on Friday there’s gonna be another triple-post of Allegiances, Prologue, and I of Forest of Secrets. Please remember to leave comments, because I read them all and it cheers me up.

“Come on,” she encouraged, her tail waving as she grinned. “Just crouch a little lower for me, alright?”

Cinderpaw grumbled, but shifted. Her clear blue eyes were fixed angrily on a twig two fox-lengths from her nose. “Do I  _ have _ to practice on a  _ stick _ of all things?”

“Sticks won’t scream and alert half the forest that you’re practicing,” the black molly purred. “Come on, are you a warrior apprentice or not?”

The gray apprentice fixed her mentor with a glare before leaping over to the stick, her forepaws hitting it and snapping it in two. One hind paw hit the ground, and it was followed with hesitance by the other. 

Her left hind paw was scarred heavily, her paw twisted outwards and leg oddly angled, but she put weight on it, and she grinned.

Yellowfang huffed from where she had been watching on the edge of the sandy hollow. “Like I said. You’re gonna do just fine. If a kitty like Emberdawn can fight with a limp like hers, you’ll be tearing Brokenstar to shreds in a heartbeat.”

Cinderpaw’s eyes were practically glowing as she looked from the medicine cat to Emberdawn. “Thank you guys so much. I was so scared that I wasn’t gonna be a warrior…”

Emberdawn sniffed, sticking her nose in the air in faux arrogance. “An apprentice of  _ mine _ ? Never!”

Even old Yellowfang barked a laugh at that.

Two moons had come and gone. Leaf-bare was in full swing, the cold clawing deep into any cat out of their nests. So much had changed in two moons. Sometimes, she thinks it’s too much.

“Why don’t you go try to hunt something?” Emberdawn suggested. “Come back if it gets too cold, and be in your nest by sunset or I’ll claw your ears off!”

“Yes, Mom.” Cinderpaw rolled her eyes dramatically, and grinned. “I won’t disappoint you!”

“You never have,” she replied easily. “Unless we’re talking about when you nearly re-broke your leg trying to climb Highrock.”

“I was  _ bored _ !”

Yellowfang snorted, and Emberdawn laughed along with her, shaking her head before trotting out of the sandy hollow. “I know for a  _ fact _ you were proud of that reckless fur-brain.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that. She  _ did _ get to the top.”

As they headed back into camp, Bluestar acknowledged them with a flick of her ears before padding past Whitestorm, who she had been sharing a mouse with, to them. “How’s Cinderpaw doing?”

The black huntress grinned to herself. “She hasn’t lost any of her energy, that’s for sure. By the next Gathering, she’ll be caught up with the other apprentices.”

“You have a lot of faith in her.”

Emberdawn blinked slowly at her leader. “I have to. Nobody else would.”

When she broke away, headed to the warrior’s den for a quick nap before her inevitable sunset hunting patrol, she sighed in contentment. Everything was going well, for the most part. Cinderpaw was back on her feet (both literally and metaphorically), there hadn’t been any more greencough outbreaks, she was getting along (somewhat) with Longtail--

“Hey, Emberdawn. Can we talk?”

She was clawed back to reality by a voice she didn’t want to hear.

Graystripe. 

He stood awkwardly in front of her, blocking her way to the nest she shared with Ravenflight. His fur was unkempt, his eyes exhausted.

“I know you’re mad at me, but--”

“Then there’s nothing else to talk about.” Her voice came out colder than the leaf-bare wind. Graystripe visibly flinched at her tone, backing away a few pawsteps. She didn’t move. “You made your decision.”

A moon ago, at the Gathering, Silverstream had come up to her, her eyes conflicted.  _ “We can’t just leave our Clans for each other,” _ she had meowed.  _ “And we can’t break it off.” _

Her heart had dropped, and for the first time in her life, she decided that she would not care. She would not care about Silverstream or Graystripe. She would not care about the friendship she lost. She would not care about how Silverstream begged Emberdawn to not take her anger out on Graystripe, though she wasn’t angry. She decided she wouldn’t feel anything about it, because  _ she didn’t care _ .

And that was that. 

Graystripe looked at her now with desperate eyes, and she refused to feel anything except indifference. “Please, I just need to talk to you about something important.”

“Is RiverClan attacking?”  _ Have you broke it off with Silverstream? _

“No.”

“Then let me go to my nest. We aren’t friends.”

He backed away, and she passed him, not sparing him a second glance as she curled in her nest, her fire-bright eyes flicking closed. 

When she opened them, not much time had passed at all, but she stood, stretching out her legs one by one and padding out of her den.

Just in time for Longtail to run straight into her.

He backed away with wild, panicked eyes. “Emberdawn! Where’s Yellowfang?!”

“Have you checked her  _ den _ ?” she asked, irritable. 

“Right, right. Sorry!” 

Before he could turn and therefore run away from her, Emberdawn cleared her throat and caught his attention. “Is there something wrong?”

“The kits are coming!”

_ Oh, StarClan’s nubby tail. _

Her paws moved faster than they rationally should have in that moment as she streaked across camp and into the nursery.

Brindleface was gently speaking to Sweetheart, who was laying in her nest, every muscle taut and expression contorted into one of pain. The tabby queen looked up with a smile as Emberdawn appeared in the mouth of the den. “Oh, you’re here. I was wondering when you’d be showing up. Come here.”

She nodded blankly, and settled next to Brindleface, shifting her paws anxiously. “You just  _ wait _ ?”

“Yeah,” Brindleface nodded. “I sent the kits to play with Sandstorm. They’re half-siblings, did you know that? Redtail was her father.”

_ She’s oddly conversational for a cat watching a queen in labor _ , Emberdawn thought wearily, feeling the shock wear off while the  _ anxiety _ set in. Would she be a good aunt? What if there were complications? What if Sweetheart lost a kit? Worse, what if Emberdawn lost  _ Sweetheart _ ?

Yellowfang trotted in, holding damp moss in her jaws. Longtail dragged a thick branch behind him. “Have her bite down on this, then get out,” she ordered him.

“What?!”

“Mollies and medicine cats only,” Brindleface mewed primly, and he sighed, setting the branch next to Sweetheart, who reached out to bite down on it, before exiting the den. Yellowfang grinned crookedly as she ran a paw over Sweetheart’s flank. 

“Four kits, looks to be,” she announced, and the tabby queen purred. 

“Good. Let’s hope they’re as energetic as their mother, because Ashkit wants a playmate and apparently Fernkit is  _ too boring _ for him.”

Emberdawn grinned weakly. “I always thought the rule was queens and medicine cats only.”

Brindleface smirked in her direction like she knew something the black huntress didn’t. “Well, the future queens have to learn to do it  _ somehow _ .”

“The future  _ what _ ?!” Her fur spiked in alarm as her skin grew hot despite the cold air, and Sweetheart grunted in pain, spitting out the stick.

“This is  _ so _ not the time to ask her if she’s mates with Ravenflight, Brindlefa--  _ HOLY MOTHER OF FUCKING TITS _ !”

“Contractions,” the old medicine cat offered helpfully, massaging Sweetheart’s belly again. “They’re very painful. Or so I hear.”

The next few minutes were periods of tense silence and screeching, with a lot more screeching than Emberdawn was strictly comfortable with. Not that Sweetheart using old kittypet swears (and even making up a few) wasn’t  _ incredibly _ funny, but the volume was making her head spin. 

“Alrighty, get ready to push, alright?” Yellowfang commanded the pained queen. “In three, two, one--”

A slimy sac made its way onto the moss, and Emberdawn tried not to shudder as the medicine cat shoved it to her. “Nip it open and lick. Backwards, not forwards, to warm them up.”

Hesitantly, she nipped the top of the membrane, and it split open easily. A tiny, slimy, pure-white tomkit tumbled out of it. After a beat, she started bathing the kit from ears to tail-tip. He squeaked in protest, probably complaining about not being in a warm place anymore, and Emberdawn ignored him resolutely, decidedly not liking the taste of the slime covering the kit.

The next sac was shoved to Brindleface, who nipped it open to reveal a darkly-colored she-kit before she, too, was licked extensively.

As the next sac was being delivered-- Emberdawn tried not to think too hard about that-- she looked at the white tomkit awkwardly before flopping forward inelegantly, burying him in her chest-fur with only his tiny head sticking out as she nipped open the new sac. This one was light-ish brown she-kit, and she bathed her without complaint. 

The last kit was a little pale tomkit, and Sweetheart was panting, lapping at the moss like her life depended on it as the kits were pushed to her belly to suckle.

Longtail was, at last, allowed in.

“What are we naming them?” he asked after a long moment of fawning over them. Sweetheart lifted her head exhaustedly, yet looked over her kits with a critical eye.

“Cloudkit,” she muttered at the white tomkit. Her eyes flicked over the other three, and Emberdawn did as well. The second kit, the dark she-kit, was a very dark gray with white flecks all throughout her pelt. The other she-kit had almost the exact same light brown tabby pelt as her mother, while the last tomkit was rather similar to Longtail with his pale tabby fur. “Moonkit, Sugarkit… and Snowkit.”

With that, she laid her head down, eyes lidded, and Emberdawn settled next to her, bathing her sister’s sweaty pelt.

“This? This looks  _ awful _ ,” she meowed simply. “I think I’m going deaf. Honestly, I never want kits.”

“Don’t tell Ravenflight that,” she huffed.

“I-- what does  _ Ravenflight _ have to do with this?!” Her pelt immediately flushed with heat as Longtail laughed. “Seriously! What?!”

Longtail laughed harder. 

“You should eat something,” Ravenflight meowed stubbornly.

Emberdawn shot a glare over her shoulder. A thin mouse dangled by its tail from her jaws, and it swung with her uneven pawsteps. 

The gorge was covered in snow, and paw-prints were the only evidence that there were any other cats in the world. Still, the black huntress growled. 

“The Clan must be fed first.”

The black tom sighed. “Of course they must be, but you haven’t eaten anything but snow since Sweetheart’s kitting!”

She hissed back, and then blinked at Mousefur, who was guarding the entrance, before ducking into camp. The fresh-kill pile was mostly covered by snow in a bid to keep it fresh, though it was dwindling. Leaf-bare was harder than usual this year.

“Eat.” Ravenflight dragged a stringy squirrel out of the pile and glared at her fiercely. After a moment, Emberdawn bowed her head and ripped it cleanly in half, shoving the front halt over to Ravenflight and slowly picking at her own. 

Satisfied, he tucked in. 

She was licking the bones clean when she heard a twig snap.

Now, on its own, this would have been normal. Except this snapping sound came from the bracken barrier.

Her eyes narrowed, scanning the barrier with a burning intensity.

Yellow eyes glared back at her, and the scent of crow-food hit her nose.

“ _ We’re under attack! _ ” she shrieked in alarm. Ravenflight yelped, shoving away his bones just in time to dodge away from a tom exploding from the barrier. 

Chaos erupted. 

Emberdawn immediately barrelled towards the nursery, where Sweetheart was grappling with a massive white tom--  _ Blackfoot _ ?

She dug her claws into his back and yanked backwards violently, drawing her lips back into a snarl. “Get your mange-pelted rogues out of our camp!” she spat at him.

Blackfoot growled back, and she took a few quick pawsteps back, using her bad leg to swat at him. He took the bait, drawing away from the nursery.

Brindleface hurried Sweetheart inside, and the two queens piled their kits into a single nest, standing over them with pelts bristling. Emberdawn took that as a good sign and reared up, pummelling Blackfoot’s ears with vengeance. 

He spat angrily, hooking his forepaw around her leg to try and unbalance her, but she twisted instead of falling, using the momentum to latch onto his scruff and bite,  _ hard _ . 

The rogue began to shake violently, unable to reach her with his paws, and flipped, trying to crush her onto the ground. She bared her teeth and adjusted her grip so that she was latched dangerously close to his windpipe. He stopped moving, likely out of fear, as his breaths became ragged. 

Then, he shoved her off and ran for the tunnel, his pelt being ripped to shreds by any ThunderClan cat he had the misfortune to run past.

Brokenstar grappled with Bluestar, and the thought  _ she’s on her last life! _ flashed through Emberdawn’s mind as she scrambled towards him, slamming hard into his side and making him fall away, reeling. 

“ _ Apprentice _ !” he spat.

“Warrior,” the huntress shot back, her fur spiking as much as possible as she kept herself between Brokenstar and Bluestar. 

He snarled, and  _ leapt _ at her.

A heavy paw hit her bad shoulder, and she cried out in alarm, nearly falling over just as the massive tom landed on her shoulders, forcing her to the ground. She yowled in shock and pain, writhing in a desperate bid to escape.

“I’m going to  _ enjoy _ killing you.”

She went limp, trying to employ her favorite tactic, and he hissed in pleasure, but his claws only tightened. Emberdawn stared up at him, helpless as he lifted a paw, his claws extended and already gleaming with her blood--

“ _ GET OFF MY FUCKING MENTOR _ !”

A gray blur slammed into Brokenstar, forcing him off of Emberdawn. She struggled to her paws and watched in shock and amazement as  _ Cinderpaw _ , of all cats, battled the exiled leader. 

He spat at her. “You little mange-fur!” His massive paw knocked into her chest, and she reared up, swiveling on her broken paw without any indication of pain in her face and dug her claws into his face, ripping the fur and spraying blood across the disturbed snow as she tore into him again and again. Brokenstar screeched, and Emberdawn felt a glow of pride, promising herself to reward Cinderpaw later as she darted back into the mass of writhing cats.

That was when she saw him.

_ Clawface _ .

Red seeped into her vision as she saw him wrestling Frostfur, whose white pelt was stained red with blood. Her leg screamed in pain as it hit the ground, but she ran at him, menacingly, purposefully. 

Frostfur was thrown aside, her eyes filled with pain, and Clawface lunged for her throat, eyes wide with murderous glee--

\-- and Emberdawn was upon him, using her front paws to slam him into the ground as she had in that first battle training with Cinderpaw. He tried to rear up, and that was his mistake, as she raked her claws from his chin to his chest, ripping open the flesh and fur and watching crimson flood over her black paw. 

She let him drop, his eyes blowing wide. 

The battle had stilled, as most of the rogues had already been driven out. Yet most turned to stare at Emberdawn, her shoulders heaving and eyes shimmering with unshed tears. 

“That was for Spottedleaf,” she hissed at him, and she stared into his eyes as the life drained from them. 

She tore her gaze away from him, and she padded over to Frostfur, helping her up. 

“Can you stand?”

“No.” She shook her head with some difficulty. “That fox-heart got me good… if you hadn’t killed him, I’d be with StarClan right about now.”

Emberdawn hummed in response, looking around her camp.

A wiry warrior had come in at some point, and was talking with Bluestar, his eyes wide with fear.  _ That’s Onewhisker _ , she realized with a jolt.  _ Something’s happened with WindClan _ .

Bluestar turned to the crowd, her eyes grave.

“RiverClan and ShadowClan have attacked WindClan. Any warrior that can still fight, please follow me.”

The moor cats fought like StarClan was on their side, which was something Emberdawn realized very quickly as she tore into a ShadowClan warrior, throwing them aside and into the waiting claws of Onewhisker. Still, they were losing.

A body crashed into hers, and Emberdawn yelped.

A golden tabby was looming over her, her fangs bared with her face twisted in the picture of hatred. “Murderer,” she hissed.

Of course Leopardfur had to be here.

She lifted her legs, clawing at the RiverClan molly’s exposed belly, but she dug her teeth into Emberdawn’s throat. She yowled in pain, trying to escape her grasp, and saw a dark tabby pelt apart from the rest.

Tigerclaw observed the battle with cold eyes, and he stared at her specifically, making no move to help.

Rage fueled her, and she threw Leopardfur off, forcing her back until an ally came and engaged her-- Ravenflight, bless his soul. She hissed, tail lashing, and turned to pin a passing molly to the ground.

The molly writhed, and she dug her claws into her fur, pinning the molly to the ground.

“Emberdawn!”

Graystripe was staring at her with panicked eyes from only a few fox-lengths away.

Emberdawn glanced down at the enemy warrior, and saw Silverstream’s fear-filled face staring back at her. She hissed, batting at her face to leave a shallow scratch before releasing her.

Silverstream, seeming to understand her intent, wriggled out of her grasp before pelting away.

Emberdawn dragged herself back into camp in utter exhaustion. The battle had raged for far longer than it rationally should have, and she was  _ not _ happy about it. All four Clans were present, and war was hanging over them. Honestly, Emberdawn was too tired to think about that.

Brindleface greeted her with a rumbling purr. “Hey, little warrior,” she meowed fondly. “You’ll be pleased to know Clawface’s body was dragged into Twolegplace and left to rot.”

Her heart felt heavy. “I really killed him, huh?”

“Don’t think like that.” The tabby queen frowned. “You saved Frostfur. She’s my best friend, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

She smiled weakly. “Alright. I’ll try not to.”

“Those slashes look awful. Go see Yellowfang, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The trek to Yellowfang’s den was far shorter than the journey from WindClan to ThunderClan, but it still felt like forever as she limped over. Cinderpaw was sitting just inside, her eyes narrowed as she licked blood from her paws.

Brokenstar lay in a nest, his face clawed almost beyond recognition, his eyes closed. 

“Yellowfang?” She looked at the medicine cat with wide eyes. “What is this traitor doing here?”

The old molly sighed, her amber eyes dull. “Sit in a nest… and I can’t kill him, kitty. It’s his last life.”

“His last-- I thought he had more?”

Cinderpaw’s gaze flicked to her mentor. “He must have lost a few without telling ShadowClan, and lost two when he was a rogue. Plus I ripped one out of him.”

Surprising even herself, Emberdawn snorted. “What is it with crippled apprentices killing this mange-pelt?”

Yellowfang laughed wryly. “He’s blind, anyway. Practically harmless. Bluestar said she would speak about him at the next Gathering to figure out what we should do-- ThunderClan isn’t the only Clan he’s wronged.”

She hummed in reply, staring at the blind tom warily as she settled into a nest. 

When she turned her head to look outside the den, flaming eyes met cruel ones, and Emberdawn curled her lip at Tigerclaw.

_ One threat down… one more to go. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have included the river scene where Emberdawn cusses in front of Cinderpaw specifically so that Cinderpaw would scream it in the middle of battle.
> 
> Leave comments bls


	15. Forest of Secrets: Allegiances

**THUNDERCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Bluestar - Blue-gray molly, tinged with silver around her muzzle.

_ DEPUTY _

Tigerclaw - big dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws 

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Yellowfang - old dark gray she-cat with a broad, flat face

_WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Whitestorm - big white tom APPRENTICE, BRIGHTPAW

Darkstripe - sleek black-and-gray tabby tom

Longtail - pale tabby tom with dark black stripes APPRENTICE, SWIFTPAW

Runningwind - swift tabby tom 

Willowpelt - very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes

Mousefur - small dusky brown she-cat

Dustpelt - dark brown tabby tom

Graystripe - long-furred gray tom with a dark gray stripe along his spine

Ravenflight - small, skinny black-furred tom with a tiny white dash on his chest and white-tipped tail, violet eyes

Sandstorm - pale ginger she-cat APPRENTICE, BRACKENPAW

Emberdawn - tiny black she-cat with amber eyes and a permanent limp in front-left leg APPRENTICE, CINDERPAW

Frostfur - beautiful white queen with blue eyes

_APPRENTICES_ (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

Swiftpaw - black-and-white tom

Brightpaw - white she-cat with ginger patches

Brackenpaw - golden-brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Cinderpaw - dark gray she-cat

Thornpaw - golden-brown tabby tom with pale blue eyes

_QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Brindleface - pretty tabby queen

Goldenflower - pale ginger queen

Speckletail - pale tabby, the oldest queen

Sweetheart - light brown tabby she-cat with green eyes

_ KITS _

Ashkit - pale gray tomkit with darker flecks and dark blue eyes (Mother: Brindleface)

Fernkit - pale gray she-kit with darker flecks and pale green eyes (Mother: Brindleface)

Cloudkit - pure white tomkit with green eyes (Mother: Sweetheart)

Moonkit - very dark gray she-kit with white flecks and green eyes (Mother: Sweetheart)

Sugarkit - light brown tabby she-kit with green eyes (Mother: Sweetheart)

Snowkit - pale tabby tomkit with white chest/paws and blue eyes (Mother: Sweetheart)

_ELDERS_ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Halftail - big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing

Smallear - gray tom with very small ears

Patchpelt - small black-and-white tom

One-eye - pale gray molly, the oldest cat in Thunderclan. Virtually blind and deaf

Dappletail - once-pretty tortoiseshell molly with a lovely dappled coat

**SHADOWCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Nightpelt - old black tom

_ DEPUTY _

Cinderfur - thin gray tom

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Fleetwhisker - small gray-and-white tom

_WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Stumpytail - brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, BROWNPAW

Littlecloud - very small tabby tom

Wetfoot - gray tabby tom APPRENTICE, OAKPAW

Brightflower - black-and-white molly

_QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Dawncloud - small tabby queen

Darkflower - black queen

Tallpoppy - long-legged light brown tabby queen

_ELDERS_ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Ashfur - thin gray tom

**WINDCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Tallstar - black-and-white tom with a very long tail

_ DEPUTY _

Deadfoot - black tom with a dead paw

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Barkface - short-tailed brown tom

_WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Mudclaw - mottled dark brown tom APPRENTICE, WEBPAW

Tornear - tabby tom APPRENTICE, RUNNINGPAW

Onewhisker - young brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, WHITEPAW

_QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Ashfoot - gray queen

Morningflower - tortoiseshell queen

**RIVERCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Crookedstar - huge light-colored tabby with a twisted jaw

_ DEPUTY _

Leopardfur - unusually spotted black-and-golden tabby molly

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Mudfur - long-furred light brown tom

_WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Blackclaw - smoky black tom APPRENTICE, HEAVYPAW

Stonefur - gray tom with heavily scarred ears APPRENTICE, SHADEPAW

Loudbelly - dark brown tom APPRENTICE, SEALPAW

Silverstream - pretty slender silver tabby

Whiteclaw - dark tom with white legs and underbelly

_ QUEENS _

Mistyfoot - blue-gray she-cat

**CATS OUTSIDE CLANS**

_ KITTYPETS _

Smudge - plump and friendly black-and-white tom

Hattie - little brown tabby kitten with amber eyes

_ LONERS _

Barley - black-and-white tom who lives on a farm close to the forest

_ ROGUES _

Blackfoot - large white tom with jet-black paws, formerly ShadowClan

Boulder - silver tabby tom, formerly ShadowClan

_ PRISONERS _

Brokentail - long-furred dark brown tabby tom, formerly ShadowClan leader


	16. Forest of Secrets: Prologue

Cold gripped the forest, fields, and moorland like an icy claw. Snow covered everything, glittering faintly under a new moon. Nothing broke the silence of the wilds except for the occasional soft rush of snow sliding from the branches of the trees and the gentle rasping of dried reeds as the wind swept through their stalks. Even the ever-present murmur of the river was dulled by the ice that stretched from bank to bank, its white expanse concealing the dark water beneath. 

There was a flicker of movement at the edge of the river. A broad-shouldered tomcat, his bracken-colored coat clotted with snow and bristled against the freezing air, emerged from the reeds beside the iced-over water. He shook the snow from his paws with impatience, his eyes darting from one place to another in a show of deep anxiety. With every step, his feet sunk deep into the drifts of snow, almost coming up to his chest, and yet he trudged onwards, heedless of the leaf-bare chill in his bones. 

A tomkit dangled from his mouth, his blue eyes wide with fright as he was held by his scruff only barely above the white powder. A mew of distress came from the tom’s shoulders, where a she-kit perched, her face the perfect picture of innocent fear. 

The tom kept trudging onwards, braving the biting wind as he padded alongside the river until, at last, it widened out, and they drew level with a small island not far from the bank. Thick beds of reeds surrounded it, their dry stems poking up through the ice with great resilience. Stunted, leafless willow trees concealed the centre of the island behind snow-laden boughs. 

“Almost there,” he meowed encouragingly, slightly muffled by the fur of the tomkit. Their eyes sparkled with wary hope. “Just stay close to me.”

He slid down the bank into a narrow, frozen pathway of stepping-stones, his paws quick but careful as he crossed them and, brushing through stiff reeds and leapt at last onto the dry, crisp earth of the island. The she-kit, who had been shivering relentlessly, scrambled down from his shoulders and tucked herself under the tom’s chest, looking around with a curious gaze. Gently, the tom set her brother down and nudged the two on. 

Beyond the willow trees, a stretch of open ground was broken only by the bushes. Frost covered the dead and dying grass here, crisscrossed by the paws of many cats, the patterns swirling and beautiful despite the reminder of the starvation leaf-bare wrought. The clearing seemed deserted as the tom herded the kits into it, but bright eyes gleamed from the shelter of a group of bushes, tracking the movements of the small group. He led the way to the largest clump of bushes and through the tangled outer wall of reeds and brambles.

The icy chill of the air was muted and almost completely gave way to the warmth of the nursery and the smell of milk. In a deep nest of moss and heather lay a gray queen, suckling a single, tiny tabby she-kit. 

Her bright eyes followed him with wary attentiveness as the tom looked at her. The she-kit stood close to him, half-hiding behind his paws, but the tomkit attempted to scramble into the queen’s nest.

“Oakheart?” she meowed questioningly, shifting to allow the tomkit into her nest. He latched on to suckle, and though her ears flicked back in worry, he made no attempt to shove aside her own she-kit. “What have you done?”

“They’re just kits, Graypool,” the tom, Oakheart, replied with uncharacteristic heaviness. “Will you-- will you take them? They need a mother… to look after them. To love and care for them.”

Graypool’s amber eyes widened with shock at the request. “But… whose kits are they? They’re certainly not of RiverClan. Where did you get them?” An accusing tone surfaced in the last phrase, and Oakheart looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. 

“I found them in the forest,” he mumbled. “They’re lucky a fox didn’t get to them before I did.”

“In the forest?” meowed the queen, her voice harsh and rasping with her disbelief. “Don’t speak to me as if I’m minnow-brained. What mother would abandon her kits in the forest,  _ especially _ in weather like this?”

The broad-shouldered warrior shrugged helplessly. “Rogues, maybe. Or Twolegs. How would I know?  _ I _ didn’t leave them there to die, did I?” 

He cut himself off, leaning down to nose the she-kit, who had slumped against his legs, her blue eyes shut. She would have looked dead, if not for the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Please, Graypool… I’m sorry your own kits died, but these will too, if you don’t help them.”

Her eyes clouded with pain, and she leaned forward, plucking the she-kit away from Oakheart and gently setting her in the curve of her belly. She blinked her eyes open softly, and mewled, her pink mouth wide as she begged. 

“I… I have plenty of milk,” she mewed heavily, more to herself than to Oakheart. Nudging the she-kit between the tabby and tomkit, she murmured, a bit louder, “Of course I’ll take them.  _ No warrior can neglect a kit in pain or danger, regardless of background _ .”

Oakheart puffed out a sigh of relief, his eyes glimmering with gratefulness. 

“I still don’t understand, though,” Graypool rumbled, careful not to disturb the three kits suckling at her belly. “Why would two kits be alone in the forest, and in the middle of  _ leaf-bare _ ? Their mother must be frantic.”

The warrior’s eyes flashed with pain. “I didn’t steal them, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Of course not.” Her voice was sharp, but there was no bite behind it. “I don’t think you did, but you aren’t telling me the whole truth, either.”

“I’ve told you all you need to know.”

“You have  _ not _ !” Graypool’s amber eyes flashed dangerously, and Oakheart stepped back. “What of their mother, Oakheart? I know what it’s like to lose kits, and I wouldn’t wish that grief on any cat. Not even my worst enemy.”

He lifted his head and stared at her, wary but defiant. A faint growl rose from the depths of his chest. “I understand, but their mother is probably some rogue cat. This is  _ not _ the weather to go looking for her, if she’s even still alive.”

“That isn’t--”

“ _ Graypool _ .” Oakheart looked at her before turning. “Just… take care of them, please. I’ll bring you some fresh-kill.”

When he had vanished out the mouth of the den, she sighed, bending her head over the kits. Her tongue rasped over their cold fur in a bid to warm them, lapping away the snow and ice clinging to their kit-fluff. The melting snow had driven away most of their scent, yet Graypool could still make out the lingering odors of the forest, of dead leaves and frostbitten earth. And there was something beneath that, fainter still…

Graypool froze, pulling her face away. Had she really sensed that, or was she simply imagining things? Dipping her head again, she slightly parted her jaws to breathe in the kit’s scents. 

Her amber eyes grew wider, and she stared fearfully into the shadows that ensconced the nursery. She was  _ not _ wrong, she couldn’t be. These two motherless kits, whose origins Oakheart had refused to explain, unmistakably carried the scent of an enemy Clan!


	17. Forest of Secrets: I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emberdawn pokes the bear. Longtail isn’t awful. Graystripe is in deep fox dirt.

Emberdawn held her head high, her pride nearly palpable as she padded alongside her apprentice, Cinderpaw, both clutching fresh-kill in their jaws.

She led the way through the bramble tunnel, shaking the snow from her fur and ears as some fell onto her as the wind howled past, disturbing the close-knit branches. The two she-cats passed the apprentice’s den, and the golden-brown tabby form of Thornpaw poked his head out, greeting his littermate with a broad grin before ducking back in to escape the cold.

Cinderpaw held a robin tightly, which was stringy and thin, though it would still be filling to the cat who would eat it. Emberdawn’s jaws watered around the hibernation-fat shrew. 

While her apprentice passed by the nursery to drop the robin in the hole in which they stored their fresh-kill in the dead of leaf-bare, she padded right in, the scents of milk wreathing her with its impossible warmth.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” she mumbled around the shrew, and her sister smiled. 

“Emberdawn,” she greeted exhaustedly, reaching out to sniff the shrew. “Thanks… there’s enough for me, Brindleface, and you here. Come on, eat with us.”

“But Fernkit and Ashkit--”

“They’ve already eaten.” Brindleface’s eyes twinkled with adoration as she glanced at her sleeping kits. “Brackenpaw brought them a mouse to share.”

The black huntress still hesitated, but she eventually nodded, settling herself beside her litter-sister and allowing the two queens to eat their own fill before she dug in, taking what little was left.

To her, it felt insane that only a quarter-moon had passed since Sweetheart’s kits were born, or three sunrises since the battle to save WindClan. Brokentail was blind, and constantly being watched by a rotation of warriors. All was well. 

A tiny paw jabbed her flank, and Emberdawn turned her fire-amber eyes to a dark gray she-kit, flecked with a gray so pale it seemed almost silver. She stared up at Emberdawn with wide kit-blue eyes. 

“Hey, Moonkit,” she meowed amiably. “Something on your mind?”

She blinked, then huffed loudly. 

Emberdawn rolled her eyes fondly, licking Moonkit’s face before standing with a stretch. “It’s getting late… I should head to my nest.”

The two queens murmured their farewells, and Emberdawn padded out.

“Emberdawn!” She froze as a deep voice grit out her name, and slowly, she looked over her shoulder at the massive tom stalking in her direction.

Fear trickled down her spine, but she crushed it down, refusing to show weakness. This was the deputy (not  _ her _ deputy,  _ never _ her deputy), Tigerclaw.

She turned, respectfully lowering her head despite the terror in her veins, the memory of Redtail’s eyes as they stared into hers pleadingly before becoming glassy jumping forth. A lump rose in her throat, making it hard to breathe, but she tried to swallow it down. 

“You have been chosen to go to the Gathering,” he growled as if this was the last thing he wanted to tell her.

Emberdawn’s ears twitched, cautious excitement making her pelt prickle. But apparently, the deputy wasn’t done.

“Just remember which Clan you belong to at the Gathering.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Excuse me? Are you trying to accuse me of disloyalty to my own Clan, to my  _ family _ ?”

His amber eyes, hate-filled and furious, fixed on her. She stared back, her tail lashing. “I saw you at the last battle-- how you let that molly get away.”

“So?” she growled back, baffled. “I clawed her face up and she was trying to run away. What does that have to do with my  _ loyalty _ ?”

“It has  _ everything _ to do with--”

“Like you have a leg to stand on.” Her mew was cold as she cut him off, and she was thankful for how noisy the clearing was, nobody paying attention to her. Immediately, his eyes widened, fear sparking in them, and she looked at him fiercely. Yet, she didn’t say what he likely expected to hear-- her accusing him of being a murderer. “I saw you, too, at the battle. I saw how you skulked around the edges like a coward, and how you ignored me when I was being torn to shreds. So if you think  _ I’m _ the disloyal one, go tell Bluestar.”

It was a risky move, but worth it. Tigerclaw’s expression returned to one of contempt, but wariness still lingered in his eyes like a shadow among pitch-black trees.  _ He’s wondering how much I know, _ she thought to herself, smug that  _ she _ knew something he didn’t. “I can deal with a  _ kittypet _ like you by  _ myself _ ,” he grit out.

She flinched back, ears flicking to press against her skull, and she glared at Tigerclaw hatefully. 

A pale paw cuffed the deputy’s ear, and they both turned to see Longtail, whose blue eyes flashed with disgust. “Cut it out, Tigerclaw. You might be the deputy, but you can’t just go around calling cats  _ kittypets _ . She’s a better hunter than I’ll ever be-- could a kittypet best me in  _ anything _ ?”

She shot a grateful look at him, and turned, leaving the indignant deputy to sputter angrily. “You going to the Gathering?”

“I was,” he meowed, “but Tigerclaw might make me stay after that stunt.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Emberdawn frowned. “He was in the wrong. No cat would fault you for that-- except for Dirtstripe, but he’s always mooning over Tigerclaw.”

Longtail chuffed. “Can’t argue there.” After a beat, the solemnity returned. “I never realized how much that kind of talk affected you… I’m sorry I was such a fox-heart before.”

“It’s behind us, now.” Emberdawn blinked at him, accepting his words for once. “I thought you were friends with him, though.”

“I am!” The pale tabby’s expression was distressed, and the black huntress flicked his nose gently with her tail, trying to drag him out of his head. “I just… I didn’t think he was such a mange-pelt about where you were born. And that means he probably says that stuff to Sweetheart, too, and I can’t be friends with someone who insults my mate like that.”

She purred, surprising the tom. “You know, when you don’t have fleas for brains, you aren’t half-bad.”

He barked a laugh. “Thanks, I think.”

With wary eyes, Emberdawn watched Silverstream slip behind the Great Rock and out of sight. Only heartbeats later, Graystripe stood and followed. She pointedly did not care as they did so, instead focusing her eyes on Sandstorm, who was talking to a group of apprentices, all from different Clans.

“Many seasons ago,” she was meowing, “before your ancestor’s ancestors walked the forest, there were five Great Clans.”

A brown tabby tom from ShadowClan shook his head. “But there are  _ four _ Clans!”

“I said  _ Great _ Clans,” the pale ginger molly huffed, but her green eyes sparkled with amusement. “ _ Anyway _ , they came to the forest and settled the land. A Clan of golden warriors, their toms boasting magnificent manes, led the way. They were called LionClan, and they were fiercely loyal to one another.

“The second Clan to follow was no less powerful-- TigerClan, their pelts a flaming amber with stripes falling across their flanks like shadows on the forest floor. They were the strongest of the five Clans, but they fought amongst each other, often falling into civil war.

“CheetahClan cats had pelts so golden that LionClan cats looked merely like sand next to them. Black spots ran across their lithe bodies, but it’s said they had two stripes running from their eyes to their jaws, like black tear-tracks. They were the fastest cats in the forest, and prided themselves upon that.

“The fourth Clan to settle in the forest was LynxClan. They were odd cats with long legs and small tawny bodies, their ears tipped with small tufts of fur, though they were the best hunters of the five Clans. Some say that a cat of LynxClan could hear a rabbit’s heartbeat from a hundred fox-lengths away!”

“But who’s the fifth Clan?” whined a RiverClan apprentice. Sandstorm glared, then returned to the story. 

“The four Clans divided up the forest much like we do now, but the fifth Clan chose to settle in Highstones.”

“ _ Highstones _ !” 

“Highstones,” she agreed. “Once, the Highstones stood much taller than they do today, with their peaks clawing the clouds. The air was freezing, even in greenleaf, and prey was scarce. Yet this was where LeopardClan made their home.”

“Like Leopardfur?” the same RiverClan apprentice asked, eyes wide.

“Leopardfur was poorly named,” the molly snorted. “She  _ should _ be Cheetahfur. Anyway… the cats of LeopardClan had pelts as silver as the moon, black spots shaped like poppy blooms patterning their fur. They hunted at night alone, and their coloring blended in so well with the rock of the Highstones that nothing saw them coming. They were the stealthiest of the five Clans, but the elders may say they were the most important, as well.”

“Why?”

“Because when they died, they wanted to be beside the moon they spent so long beneath, and saw as a mother… so they became the stars. The first leader of LeopardClan shines brightly in the North sky, always still so we remember to look to her for guidance when we are lost.”

When the questions died away, Emberdawn purred to her friend. “You’re a good storyteller, you know.”

Sandstorm blinked, then grumbled. “Yeah, whatever. I guess you hadn’t heard that old kit-tale either, huh?”

“Nope.”

A yowl sounded across the clearing, and from the shadows lingering over the Great Rock, Crookedstar emerged.

“I will begin this meeting with unfortunate news: Oakheart has died of an infection in his wounds. In his stead, Leopardfur has been named deputy.”

Bluestar’s face was hardly visible from the ground, but as the Clans chanted Leopardfur’s name, Emberdawn saw  _ grief _ flash across her face. Why would she grieve for an enemy?

“But with all bad news comes good,” he continued, heedless of the ThunderClan leader’s silent suffering. “Silverstream has joined Mistyfoot in the nursery, as she is expecting.” 

All curiosity fled Emberdawn to make way for fear. It crawled up her throat and threatened to suffocate her, panic-panic-panic crowding out her thoughts--

\-- she blinked, and Bluestar was stepping forth, the other leaders all having said their piece. When had that happened?

“I am aware of the gravity of the words I am about to say,” she meowed gravely. “But I ask that you remain silent, if nothing else to allow me to explain the situation and my own thoughts of it.

“Just before the attack on WindClan, the ex-ShadowClan rogues attacked us. We drove them out, and it is thanks to the efforts of a warrior and her apprentice that Clawface is dead, and Brokentail is a prisoner.”

An absolute hush fell over the Gathering.

Bluestar’s expression did not falter. She did not flinch away from the stares. “He is on his last life, and he is blind. It would have been irrational of me to order his execution, though it would have been accepted widely, but ThunderClan is not the only Clan he wronged. I tell you this now so that as you return home to your nests, you know that your kits are safe from Brokentail-- and so that you may debate what to do amongst your own Clan, and when the next full moon rises, all four Clans may pass judgement.” She dipped her head. “Thank you for your consideration.”

_ The trees whispered above her as Emberdawn padded between them, the moon hanging low on the western horizon. She had woken as she fell asleep, and stepped out of her body like she had only once before-- and had decided to leave camp, instead walking in Tallpines, wanting to forget the chill of leaf-bare. _

_ “Hello, Emberdawn.” _

_ A pelt brushed hers, and she smiled at her deputy. “Redtail,” she greeted.  _

_ His eyes were filled with stars, yet they were solemn. “You’ve suffered so much.” _

_ She looked away, craning her neck to see the tip of a pine tree. “And I would do it all again for ThunderClan.” _

_ “I know.” Redtail sat beside her, and smiled, seemingly more to himself than anything. “Supporting Bluestar’s decision to take you and your litter-sister in was one of the best things I did with my life, right beside having Sandstorm. I love Brindleface, but I have accepted she’s moved on.” _

_ “I don’t know about that,” she murmured. “That thing she had with Whitestorm was over pretty quickly… I think he’s courting Willowpelt these days.” _

_ Her deputy grinned, then shook himself. “That’s not why I’m here, though. I came to give you a warning.” _

_ She angled her ears to Redtail, and nodded. _

_ “Something is coming, Emberdawn. Water can quench even the most powerful of fires.” _

_ “But-- if water quenches fire, then what can save ThunderClan?” Her eyes widened with distress, and Redtail smiled sadly.  _

_ “You have done well, with how you planted an idea of the truth in Bluestar’s mind, but she is aging and her years of grief have clouded her judgement.” _

_ “But what can I do?” _

_ “Help her see the water, and the fire may burn on.” _

She jolted awake to hear a hissed argument.

Emberdawn blinked blearily, rising from her nest and shivering at the warmth she was leaving behind. Ravenflight grunted in complaint, cracking open a brilliantly violet eye to glare at her.

She nodded in the direction of the argument, and crept out.

Graystripe and Tigerclaw were both bristled, eyes narrowed. The deputy’s tail lashed once. “I’ll ask you  _ one more time _ : where were you that it took so long to return from the Gathering?”

_ With Silverstream _ . The words jumped into her mind immediately, and she scowled. Yet she remained in the shadows, watching silently. 

“I was out hunting!”

“Really? It seems you brought nothing back!” Tigerclaw stalked closer to him, and his claws slid out of their sheathes. Emberdawn’s breath caught, and Ravenflight froze next to her.

No matter how much she  _ refused  _ to care about what was happening with Graystripe, she wouldn’t let him die at the malice of Tigerclaw. She wouldn’t stand idly by as he was punished. 

“Stay back, I’ll handle this,” she hissed lowly. Ravenflight looked at her, surprise flickering in his gaze, but he nodded. Emberdawn stood and paced out in one swift motion, yawning dramatically.

Tigerclaw glared at her. “What do you want, kittypet? This doesn’t concern you.”

“It does, actually.” She stretched out her bad paw, flexing her claws before settling down, watching the two toms lazily. “Graystripe here was trying to catch an adder again. I keep telling him it’s too dangerous, but you know how toms get when they’re trying to one-up each other… he’s a flea-brain, for sure, since the adders will be asleep when it’s this cold, but his heart was in the right place. I honestly don’t know why he keeps trying to impress me, he won’t really match up to Ravenflight in my eyes-- no offence, furball.”

Graystripe looked at her like she had hung the moon, and he stuttered out an embarrassed apology. Tigerclaw snorted, and stalked back into the den.

Ravenflight slipped out and nudged her. “You really think of me that highly?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it,” she replied, and then her pelt flushed, realizing what she just did. “Ah, fox dung,” she muttered, pacing away from the mouth of the warrior’s den and closer to Highrock, letting her two friends cluster close so that they may have some privacy.

“What?”

“I just made it sound like Graystripe was courting me but I was already mates with you or something.”

The fluffy tom glanced at her curiously. “You  _ aren’t _ ?”

“No?” Ravenflight wrinkled his nose in confusion. “Why does everyone think that?”

“Probably the whole thing where you share nests. And prey. And secrets. When you have free time, you hunt together alone… everyone thinks you’re mates.” Graystripe blinked at the two, bewildered. “But that’s not really what I wanted to ask you about… can we talk at some point?”

She hummed to herself, considering. She had sworn she  _ would not _ care about his whole debacle… but he was her Clanmate. At the very least, she could hear him out, but if he was going to keep preaching about how  _ love conquers all borders _ , she would walk out. 

“Fine. Get some sleep, meet me at sunset at the place Sandstorm showed us as ‘paws.”

His eyes lit up with understanding, and Emberdawn ducked her head ot him as he went into the warrior’s den.

The two black-furred runts sat side-by-side, neither sure what to say or how to say it.

“So… that was a thing.”

“Yeah.”

“And most of the Clan thinks we’re mates.”

“Yeah.”

Ravenflight shifted uncomfortably. “Do you… want to change that, or?”

Somehow, she knew that he wasn’t asking about changing the Clan’s perception of them. He was asking if she wanted to change their  _ relationship _ .

She looked at her paws, stomach churning. On one paw, she could have walked on stars. But on the other, anxiety clawed at her belly and forced her heart into her throat. “I don’t know. I’ve got responsibilities I can’t even begin to understand. Cinderpaw is relying on me to train her, because I know if I slacked off, Bluestar would shuffle her to the medicine den because she would think she’d never be a warrior with her leg.”

“Hey… I won’t force you if you don’t want to.” His tail brushed her flank comfortingly, but sadness lingered in his eyes.

She shook her head. “That’s not it. I  _ do _ want to. The problem is…  _ mates _ . Sweetheart became mates with Longtail, and half a season later she’s nursing a litter of four. Kits are wonderful, they’re blessings from StarClan and I can’t help but love every single one of them, but I don’t know if I could ever handle having my own.”

Surprisingly, Ravenflight sighed in relief. “Sweetheart and Longtail wanted to have kits, so they decided to. You don’t want them, and even if I would love to raise kits with you… that’s not something for today. I’d be happy to wait seasons for that time, even if it doesn’t come. After all, I hear labor sucks.” His teasing tone brought a grin to her face, and she leaned over, twining her tail with his and pressing their noses together.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins part three of our rewrite!


	18. Forest of Secrets: II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweetheart’s kits are menaces. Graystripe comes clean. Emberdawn is surrounded by secrets, and some of them she’s terrified to say aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi welcome to Chili’s   
> So anyway, as a bit of a bonus I thought I would add in some romantic preferences of the different Clans!
> 
> ThunderClan really likes amber eyes. Yellow is a pretty good one, but amber is a favorite. Pelt colors are typically in the brown tabby categories, and they also really love burly builds. Basically, Tigerclaw is a stud, and though Sweetheart has green eyes, she’s one of the most attractive mollies in the Clan besides Brindleface.
> 
> RiverClan likes shades of gray. Blue eyes are common and prized. Silverstream and Mistyfoot are both incredibly pretty, though most prefer Mistyfoot’s broader shoulders than Silverstream’s lithe build.
> 
> WindClan cats are mostly pale, and yellow eyes are a favorite. White cats are considered highly desirable. They like tall, lithe cats with short fur. Tallstar is an example of that.
> 
> ShadowClan likes the darker colors, and tortoiseshell patterns are considered very pretty. They don’t much care for fur length, as long as they are well-groomed. ShadowClan cats are actually the smallest of all the Clans, since they are built for stealth rather than speed or endurance. Emberdawn would be *peak* attractiveness to most ShadowClan cats for her small size and dark coloring, plus how she keeps her fur immaculate because of how fluffy it is.

Sugarkit, Emberdawn noticed, was identical to her mother. Her eyes were changing from blue to the vibrant green Sweetheart inherited from Jake, and her light brown tabby pelt was accented with the white chest and paws of her mother that she shared with Snowkit. Snowkit was a pale tabby, and his eyes had not yet begun to change-- besides the white chest and paws, he would likely grow up to look exactly like his father.

Where those two were near copies of their parents, Moonkit and Cloudkit were decidedly not. Sweetheart’s firstborn was a bit of a brat, and got Emberdawn’s overly-fluffy coat, although he was pure white. Moonkit, on the other paw, had relatively normal amounts of fluff, but had a dark gray coat, nearly black, with silvery-white flecks throughout. 

These were all observations made by Emberdawn as she was kittensitting for her littermate.

“Cloudkit, you  _ cannot _ put that in your mouth,” she mewed in distress, dragging her tail away from the white tomkit. “Sugarkit, stop trying to leave the nursery!”

“We want milk!” she complained, and Emberdawn grimaced. 

“I don’t have milk-- wait for your mom to come back.”

“Where’s Mama?” Snowkit demanded, his blue eyes narrowing. 

“Hunting with your dad.”

The only quiet kit, a blessing to this world, was Moonkit. She curled in Emberdawn’s chest-fur contentedly, amusing herself with watching her littermates get scolded. Meanwhile, Emberdawn plucked Ashkit up by the scruff and set him aside.

“What?” he complained loudly.

“They’re too little to roughhouse!”

Brindleface leaned over, picking her wayward kit up and dropping him in her nest with an amused purr. “Sorry about that.”

“How old will they be when they can play, Mama?” Fernkit mewed, blinking her wide green eyes.

“When they’re weaned, love. One and a half moons.”

“But  _ Mama _ !” the tomkit complained with a sniff, “That’s so long! They’re not even one moon yet!”

Sweetheart pushed her way into the nursery, an amused smirk on her face as she dropped a mouse next to Brindleface. “Caught you something.”

“Thanks.”

The two sisters regarded each other as a lively Cloudkit attempted to eat Emberdawn’s tail again. Then, the tabby grinned, scooping up Sugarkit and nudging Emberdawn from her nest. “Thanks for watching them, I really needed some air.”

“They’re a delight,” the huntress replied drily, pulling her tail from Cloudkit’s tiny jaws. 

Sweetheart snorted, nudging Cloudkit into the nest with her. “Yeah, I bet. They’re fussy whenever I’m not with them.”

“I’ll say.” Her own jaws gaped in a yawn, shaking out her pelt. “Anyway, I was gonna go meet up with Graystripe, he wanted to talk to me about something.”

With that, she exited the nursery, padding to the tunnel. Passing Tigerclaw, she looked at the deputy dismissively-- locking her eyes with his and sliding them onwards as if he was no more important than a beetle. 

“Kittypet,” he hissed lowly, leaning in so only she would hear him. 

Her eyes flashed, and she craned her neck to reach his ear, barely breathing the word. “ _ Traitor _ .”

He went completely still, and she kept moving as if they had exchanged only pleasantries.

She crouched in a bush once she was out, waiting for Tigerclaw to come after her, and when he didn’t, she crept to the gorge, nosing along the rocks and bushes until she found the old, old badger set. 

Throwing another cautious glance over her shoulder, she ducked inside.

Graystripe was already crouched inside, his eyes wary as he looked at her. “Took you a while.”

“I was kittensitting for Sweetheart.”

He nodded in understanding, then glanced aside. “Silverstream is pregnant.”

Her fur prickled. “I heard. Crookedstar was very happy for his daughter at the Gathering, don’t you think?”

She must have come off colder than intended, because he flinched. “I know. But… it made us think about what we would do. What  _ you _ said to us, how something was going to go wrong.”

Emberdawn regarded him, cautious. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“Silverstream wants to come here.”

All at once, dread and relief poured in her belly, and she sucked in a breath. On one paw, this would be so much safer than trying to keep the secret, but on the other… the Clan would think of Graystripe as a traitor, even if they accepted Silverstream. Still, she asked, “Why here? Why ThunderClan, and not you going to RiverClan?”

“Because her friend, Mistyfoot, knows about us.” He said that bluntly and easily, as if it wasn’t incredibly dangerous information to hand out. “And Mistyfoot was the one to convince her. She said that as much as she loves RiverClan, they would be prejudiced to half-Clan kits, and wouldn’t accept me as one of their own.”

“Where ThunderClan is one of the most open about who they take in, like Sweetheart and I.” Her mouth was dry and she bristled slightly. 

“And Yellowfang-- she was exiled from ShadowClan, remember?”

“... Right.”

She looked to the entrance, deep in thought. After a few heartbeats had passed, she mewed, “This won’t be easy.”

“We know.”

“Then, when is she coming?”

“... as soon as I give the all-clear. She didn’t want to come unless you were okay with it.”

Her heart twisted painfully. “I won’t stop you. I can’t openly support you, but I won’t go against you, either.”

“Great.” He visibly relaxed, then sheepishly asked, “Can you, uh… do me a favor?”

“... what?”

“Could you help me pick her up? She should be fishing by he border… and I think the Clan will take her more seriously if you came along.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because you’re a really respected warrior, duh.” He blinked at her like she was dense, and honestly, she probably was. “Every molly in the Clan is either a pseudo-mother or a friend of yours, and I know for a fact half the toms are terrified of you.”

She snorted, disbelieving, but nodded. Slowly, Emberdawn poked her head out of the mouth of the badger den, scanning the gorge for any possible witnesses-- when she only saw Sandstorm, who was carrying a squirrel and sent a wink her way, she slunk out, beckoning Graystripe along.

The sun was sinking on the horizon, and Emberdawn navigated the forest in silence, leaping up onto logs that Graystripe only needed to step up to but determined to keep pace with him. Naturally, her shoulder was acting up again, since it was late and she’s been active all day between patrols, hunting, and kittensitting. But she was determined to keep moving-- if she faltered, it was off to the medicine den for her, if not the elder’s den. She loved Bluestar, but after hearing about how One-eye had been shunted into the elder’s den early when she went half-blind, she was not excited to have something like that happen to  _ her _ . 

The muted rush of water greeted her senses as the pair of ThunderClan warriors emerged from the forest and onto Sunningrocks. Surely enough, a pair of RiverClan queens were crouched by the bank on the other side.

A set blue eyes flashed when she saw them, and slowly, the blue-gray queen drew herself up. She crossed the ice easily despite her sides being swollen with kits, and as she faced Emberdawn with steel in her eyes, she was reminded of Bluestar.

She looked  _ exactly _ like Bluestar.

_ Plenty of cats look similar, _ she reasoned with herself, blinking at the queen before dipping her head. “Mistyfoot, I assume?”

“You’d be correct. You’re Emberdawn, the warrior I’ve heard so much about?” The other’s mew was cool, but calculating. A shiver went down her spine-- even Mistyfoot’s  _ voice _ was like Bluestar’s, and it bothered her. It bothered her  _ so much _ , and she could not place  _ why _ they were so… identical.

“That I am.” She looked over at Graystripe, who was enthusiastically greeting Silverstream. “I’m sorry you have to see a friend go.”

“And I’m sorry you were as tangled in this as I was.” Mistyfoot licked a paw, her gaze pensieve. “I had begged Silverstream to go. I knew the kits’ true heritage would be exposed someday, and she doesn’t deserve to become the next Mapleshade.”

“Mapleshade?” She inclined her head in curiosity, then flattened her ears, shame heating her pelt. “Sorry, sorry, I get the feeling it’s a common Clan kit-tale, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t born in the Clans.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Mistyfoot purred, and nudged her gently. “Mapleshade was a ThunderClan warrior who fell in love with a RiverClan tom named Appledusk. When she gave birth to their kits, ThunderClan’s leader exiled her and her kits. It was dark and a storm was raging, pushing the river to flooding its banks, and when Mapleshade attempted to cross the river to get to Appledusk with her kits, all three kits drowned, and she barely made it out alive with their bodies. She made it to camp, but RiverClan’s leader refused to take her in, and Appledusk shunned her while she wept over the kit’s still-warm bodies, denouncing her as a Clan cat and declaring a she-cat named Reedshine was carrying his kits. She was chased out, and she went on to kill three cats-- the ThunderCLan medicine cat Ravenwing, who had exposed her; Frecklewish, a ThunderClan warrior who watched as Mapleshade’s kits drowned; and finally Appledusk, who ruined her. Silverstream is too kind to kill, but nobody deserves Mapleshade’s fate.”

Pity clawed at Emberdawn’s heart for the ancient queen. “I feel bad for her, really. She sounds more like a victim than a villain.”

Mistyfoot smiled sadly. “Many would disagree with you, but I don’t. At any rate… place take care of Silverstream.”

“I will defend her like she was my sister,” she replied earnestly, and when Mistyfoot smiled over her shoulder as she padded back across the ice, it felt like a new beginning.

“Kittypet, Graystripe. What is this?”

Tigerclaw’s growl stopped the three cats, and Emberdawn regarded him coldly. They had drawn curious eyes for certain, but to stop them in the middle of camp on their way to Bluestar was rather rude.

“My name is Silverstream.” To her credit, the queen did not back down, raising her chin with perfect defiance in her gaze. “And I asked these two warriors to escort me to Bluestar.”

“The  _ kittypet _ ?” His scathing tone made Emberdawn flinch, but she didn’t allow him the satisfaction of retreating. 

“No, the loyal ThunderClan huntress who follows the warrior code.” Silverstream’s voice was equally frosty, almost colder than the leaf-bare air around them. “We have crossed paths a few times, and I knew she was one of the few in ThunderClan that would hear me out before throwing me in the river.”

Bluestar emerged from her den just then, her blue eyes flashing with irritation. “Stand down, Tigerclaw.”

“There is an enemy warrior in our  _ camp _ \--”

“Silverstream is a  _ queen _ .” Her leader’s voice was hard and garnered no argument. “You forget that it would be against the warrior code to deny her an audience or shelter, regardless of her Clan.”

His jaws shut with a  _ click _ , and he slunk off in silence. 

“Come.”

Emberdawn nodded, leading the inter-Clan mates into the leader’s den, sitting by the entrance and staring blankly at Darkstripe until he stalked away, muttering insults about her kittypet heritage the entire way.

Eventually, Bluestar spoke. “You two are mates.”

It wasn’t a question, and she felt Graystripe stiffen. When she glanced over her shoulder, fiery eyes locking on Silverstream, the queen did not deny it. In fact, she did the opposite. “We are, Bluestar.”

“And you came here seeking asylum, despite knowing your relationship was against the warrior code.”

“Yes, Bluestar.”

The mighty ThunderClan leader sighed, looking ages older than she really was… or, perhaps, looking her own age for the first time in the seasons Emberdawn had known her. “And… Emberdawn, you were aware of this?”

“Only in part,” Graystripe meowed, anxious to defend the huntress. She shot him a disapproving look, but he ignored her and continued. “She and Silverstream saved me from drowning not long after I go my warrior name. They… I guess they kind of befriended each other. At the next Gathering, I thanked her and we talked, and we kept meeting up… Emberdawn followed me, once, and I really thought she was going to claw my pelt off. But… she just screamed at me for a while, and then made me go back to camp while she talked to Silverstream.”

The queen picked up the story from there. “She told me that I had three choices-- break it off before we made a mistake, one of us switch Clans so it would be allowed, or continue as we were. For each, she had conditions. If I chose to break it off, she would pretend it never happened, but would help Graystripe cover it up. If one of us were to switch Clans, she would vouch for me or claw his ears off. If we kept going… she told me that she would not say anything, but when everything fell apart around us, she wouldn’t help us, either.”

Fed up with being talked about like she wasn’t here, Emberdawn spoke up, her voice like steel. “They chose to keep going, so I cut Graystripe out of my life. When I heard Silverstream was pregnant at the Gathering last night, I allowed Graystripe to speak to me, and he asked me to help him vouch for Silverstream, because they knew ThunderClan was more likely to accept her than RiverClan.”

The silence was deafening to Emberdawn. She kept her eyes focused on her leader, even as Graystripe and Silverstream pressed together, avoiding her eyes. Bluestar looked distant, gazing into some unknown memory with grief and understanding battling for her attention.

To Emberdawn, it felt like her claws were sliding into a groove, perfect and catching delicately. Some visceral idea brought to the forefront of her mind.

“I will grant you asylum until your kits are born, and hold a Clan meeting to decide your fate after that. Your kits will not be punished for your crimes, but you two must be.”

“Yes, Bluestar.”

“Of course, Bluestar.”

She looked at the two for a long, long moment. “Graystripe, the entire Clan will be told that you broke the warrior code, and you must bear the consequences of that. You will not snap back, you will not fight any cat. However the Clan deems fit to treat you, it will be your punishment.”

Graystripe bowed his head.

“Silverstream, I do not have the same means of punishing you as I would one of my warriors, since you are a queen and not of ThunderClan. But for so long as Yellowfang allows it, you will be treated as an apprentice and do the same duties a ThunderClan apprentice would around camp, from cracking ticks to changing bedding. If a queen or elder asks you to do something, you will do so without complaint unless Yellowfang has told you that you are too heavily pregnant.”

“Thank you, Bluestar.” The silver queen’s voice shook with her relief, but Bluestar wasn’t done, her gaze sliding to Emberdawn.

She knew she was likely going to be punished, so she swallowed her pride. She straightened her back, looking her leader solidly in the eyes. “Don’t take it out on Cinderpaw.”

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, Bluestar’s eyes widened. “Cinderpaw? What does Cinderpaw have to do with this?”

She swallowed thickly. “I was disloyal by not going straight to you. It would be customary for a mentor who broke the warrior code to have their apprentice taken from them to set an example, but if you took Cinderpaw away she would have to be a medicine cat like you said, and I know she doesn’t want that.”

The ThunderClan molly looked at her for a long while, seeming to turn over every word that had spilled from Emberdawn’s tongue. Eventually, she meowed, “Even when you believe you are in trouble, you rush to defend others and not yourself.”

Before Emberdawn could decode that statement, Bluestar continued.

“I believe you handled that situation far better than most cats would have. You acted with maturity instead of acting on the feeling of betrayal you likely had, and gave them options. Even though I wish you would have come to me, I understand how delicate the situation was, and you punished yourself by completely cutting ties with Graystripe emotionally while still treating him like a Clanmate.” She looked at the mates, her ears twitching. “Silverstream, go to Yellowfang. Graystripe, it’s best you tell Tigerclaw of the situation and what I have decided for you.”

“Yes, Bluestar,” they chorused, already exiting. Emberdawn began to turn, but felt herself hesitate, pausing and looking back at her leader.

“What is wrong, Emberdawn?” Bluestar inclined her head slightly, an invitation.

“Permission to speak my mind?” When her leader nodded, she inhaled deeply, steeling her nerves. “Mistyfoot is your daughter, isn’t she?”

Bluestar’s eyes flashed with regret, and she looked aside, like a chastised kit. “Why would you think that?”

Emberdawn shuffled her paws, anxiety creeping into her chest. “She looks… she looks just like you. Acts like it too. I swear, when I met her, I was convinced for a moment that she just  _ was _ you, with less silver around the muzzle and stinking of fish.”

That startled a purr from her leader, and Bluestar sobered again. “Yes. She and Stonefur were my kits, once.”

“Then Oakheart was their father?” she guessed, recalling the look on Bluestar’s face when his death was announced.

“You’re very perceptive… I hid that from the entire Clan for seasons, yet you piece it all together in a moon.”

“I won’t say a word,” she assured. “I just… I wanted to know.”

“Thank you.” The old molly looked past her for a moment, deep in thought. “When I had my kits, a friend of mine offered to pretend to be their father. He didn’t care they weren’t really his. But… a cat named Thistleclaw would have been appointed deputy. Our deputy was retiring, and Thistleclaw and I were the most respected warriors in ThunderClan at the time. I knew that if Thistleclaw were to be leader, he would lead us to ruin. I had three kits, and it was the dead of leaf-bare. I crossed the entire forest with them and handed Stonekit and Mistykit off to their father, but Mosskit died in the cold. I told everyone a fox attacked, and searched for them, and cried and held a vigil… but in the end, I was deputy, and Thistleclaw died in a patrol battle.”

Emberdawn looked at her with new eyes, and looked over to the entrance again. She knew Tigerclaw couldn’t possibly be there, waiting, but she was wary all the same. “I understand. You couldn’t just stand up and say what you knew, so you had to make sacrifices.”

“You sound like you understand a lot more than what you are letting on.”

“I do.” Her mew was heavy with grief and she blinked hard, chasing away tears. “But I can’t just stand up and say it. All I have is the word of mouth, and even if you believed me, it would never be enough to convince the Clan.”

Her leader’s chin rested on her head, and the two mollies sat there, solemn. Everything felt like it was frozen in time, from Bluestar’s gentle breath tickling her ears to the steady heartbeat reverberating through her bones. “What can you tell me, Emberdawn?”

Another conversation with Bluestar came to mind, and she choked down a sob. “I watched him die, Bluestar. We were looking right at each other when his throat was ripped out.”

“Who?”

“Bluestar!” Tigerclaw’s voice cut through the air, and Emberdawn cringed, skittering away from her leader as the deputy stalked in. “Is what Graystripe is saying  _ true _ ?!”

“Yes.” Bluestar’s voice was curt, and before she could turn to face Emberdawn again, the black molly was already gone, vanished out the mouth of the den and out of her sight.

Nobody but Bluestar heard the silent prayer that what Bluestar suspected had happened was utterly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE leave comments because i love comments an it makes me sad to not have comments


	19. Forest of Secrets: III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silverstream is settling into her new Clan. Moonkit is far too curious. Emberdawn has her first peaceful day in a long, long time.

Brokentail’s sightless eyes felt accusing as they bored into Emberdawn’s pelt. She shook out her fur nervously, looking at him with anxiety roiling in her gut. Despite  _ logically _ knowing he was more helpless than a newborn kit… he terrified her. 

She could hardly look at him without remembering how weak she was, to be pinned with hardly more than a thought and no tricks to get her out of trouble. 

Cinderpaw brushed against her, a flicker of amusement in her clear blue gaze. “Hey, Yellowfang wants us to help her find some herbs.” 

“That’s for sure,” the ancient molly rumbled, prowling after the mentor and apprentice. 

“What, your old bones aren’t what they used to be?”

Yellowfang hissed good-naturedly in response to Emberdawn’s teasing as she lumbered forward. To the three’s great shock, a  _ kit _ tumbled forward, blocking her path. 

The one-moon-old Moonkit stared defiantly up at her. “Can I go?”

Yellowfang tilted her head slightly, considering. “Does your mother know what you’re doing?”

“Yes…”

“Then fine. It can’t do any harm.”

Surprised with the medicine cat’s vote of confidence for her niece, Emberdawn herded Moonkit along with the ragtag band of cats. “What are we looking for? I would have thought most herbs died in leaf-bare.”

“Berries are what we’re after-- we may still find some yet.” Yellowfang scanned the gorge as the four ThunderClan cats emerged from their camp. 

“I’ll find some,” Moonkit mewed determinedly, streaking off into the underbrush. Cinderpaw rolled her eyes in amusement as Emberdawn frowned, already fretting over the kit. 

“She’ll be fine, probably. Nobody’s scented any foxes or badgers in ages.”

“Kits are bound to snuff out the biggest trouble in the forest,” Yellowfang snorted, and did nothing to alleviate Emberdawn’s anxiety. “Anyway, we’re looking for juniper. Good for bellyaches, but more importantly, it helps clear lungs and makes it easier for cats to breathe.”

“Greencough again?” Cinderpaw meowed worriedly, but Yellowfang shook her head.

“Goldenflower is expecting, already over a moon along but she didn’t want to be a bother while it was so late in leaf-bare. Speckletail thinks she might be, but not sure just yet… I’m also thinking Willowpelt might be expecting come newleaf. I’m more worried about kitten-cough.”

“Kitten-cough?” Her tail lashed worriedly. 

“Comes in late leaf-bare and early newleaf.” Her short, gray tail flicked, betraying her worry. “Seasons before your mother’s mother was even a gleam in StarClan’s eye, there was a flower that could cure it as easily as breathing. Now, Twolegs have driven it out of the forest, and we have to deal with what little we have.”

“Hey, I found something!” Moonkit’s proud mew broke into their conversation, and the three mollies padded closer. The little kit was crouched under a bush, staring up at bright red berries. Yellowfang’s eyes flashed with dismay and utter terror, and she darted forward, practically dragging Moonkit away from the bush.

“Yellowfang?!”

“Those are deathberries!” the medicine cat wheezed, looking over Moonkit’s pelt with panic in her gaze. “Did you eat any? Even a  _ nibble _ ?”

“No, ma’am.” Her eyes were wide with fright, and she looked at the bush. “I’m sorry… I thought they were holly berries, and that you might be happy with me ‘cuz I heard you say it makes a cat really sick and can make them puke up bad prey…”

She visibly deflated and licked Moonkit’s ears. “No worries, little scrap. I’m just an old worrywart… and that’s right, they do. But kits and Emberdawn could get very, very sick from it and die because the poison is too potent in holly berries for their small bodies.”

“Hey,” Emberdawn protested weakly, picking up Moonkit and bundling her at her paws. “I’m not  _ that _ small.”

“You are,” Cinderpaw snorted, and Emberdawn shot her a look. Her apprentice was already a bit taller than her, and at her peak she might be able to rest her chin on Emberdawn’s head, but she would still be pretty small for a Clan cat.

“... whatever.”

“Anyway,” Yellowfang shot a look at the two to silence them before continuing, “I only keep five of these berries in my stock, and I bury them so nobody can get a hold of them by accident. Just one could kill a kit, or Emberdawn and Ravenflight. This is a yew bush-- the leaves will just make your belly ache a lot, but the berries will make you froth at the mouth until your heart stops.”

“Sounds awful…” the kit mewed, blinking her large green eyes. 

“It is. Now, we’re looking for some indigo-colored berries, and they’ll be on a bush that looks a lot like this, but a bit lighter green…”

“Yellowfang said to eat this, since you were stubborn enough to not come to the nursery sooner.” Emberdawn dropped the burnet leaves in front of Goldenflower, who purred to her with a smile. “She also says you’re a thick-headed mouse-brain that needs a good cuff around the ears, but I’m gonna let Brindleface chew you out for that one.”

Brindleface laughed, flicking her tail. “Yeah, that’s for sure. Can you grab something big for us?”

“I already ate,” Sweetheart hurried to add, nudging Snowkit to her belly. “But thank you.”

“Mhm.” The black huntress padded back to the fresh-kill hole, looking over the options before dragging out a rabbit. It was stringy, but it would do.

Silverstream lifted her head and purred a greeting as Emberdawn passed. “Hey.”

“Yellowfang ordered you off apprentice duties?”

“Until the kits are weaned, yes,” she agreed simply. 

“How’s ThunderClan been treating you?” It was a loaded question, she knew, but it had to be asked. Even if Silverstream wasn’t  _ officially _ a ThunderClan cat yet, she was a queen, and Emberdawn would treat her like a sister.

The silver queen smiled warmly. “Brindleface is kind to me, and her kits have been asking for stories RiverClan kits hear. I don’t know Goldenflower very well yet, but she has treated me with respect. Sweetheart lives up to her name-- I can see why you love her so much. She’s adamant on making me feel welcome. Just this morning, Tigerclaw came in to taunt me about how I was a traitor to my Clan, and Sweetheart nearly clawed his ears off with her tongue alone. She’s certainly your sister.”

“He didn’t call her anything awful, did he?”

Her brow crinkled. “I think he called you and her kittypets a few times, but them Longtail showed up to chase him out. Why did he do that?”

With hesitation, she meowed, “You know we weren’t born in ThunderClan.”

“Right, Graystripe said something about how you joined as apprentices.”

“We were born as kittypets,” Emberdawn admitted. “It’s been over two seasons since then, but Tigerclaw doesn’t want to let it go… and neither does Darkstripe, since he’s practically Tigerclaw’s shadow. A few other cats have their moments, but they’re the worst about it.”

Silverstream bowed her head. “Thank you for telling me… I’m glad I’m not alone in ThunderClan, if that doesn’t sound too rude.”

“It doesn’t.” Emberdawn poked her shoulder fondly, and rolled her eyes. “One day, the Clan will see you as one of their own. StarClan, when the kits are older, they won’t be able to imagine a life before you showed up!”

“Thanks, Emberdawn.”

“Hey, want to go hunting?”

Sandstorm’s mew beckoned Emberdawn over, and she grinned easily. “Yeah, why not? Newleaf is just around the corner-- maybe there’ll be something at Sunningrocks!”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she meowed teasingly, and they exited the camp.

Rain dumped all around the two mollies as they searched Sunningrocks, getting increasingly agitated. Her long fur clung to her sides, heavy and uncomfortable. The cold of the air and rain made her shoulder ache, yet she still lifted her head, swiveling her ears to try and make out the sound of prey.

The terrified mewling of  _ kits _ reached her ears instead.

“Sandstorm!” she called, alarmed. The pale ginger molly jerked upwards, apparently also hearing the cries, and they began to peer through the sheets of rain curtaining the world around them.

Following her instincts, Emberdawn padded to the riverbank, and her eyes blew wide as she saw a mat of reeds tangled in the water, a pair of  _ kits _ caught on it. 

Emberdawn’s paws moved ahead of her mind, and she launched herself into the black, frothing water. She gasped as the cold river yanked her violently downriver, but she caught onto a loose rock and gripped it tightly. Above the roaring of the waves, she yowled, “Sandstorm! When they come my way, I’m pushing them to you!”

She barely saw Sandstorm’s nod when the mat finally untangled itself and was pulled along with the current again.

Emberdawn leapt as well as she could in the water, her claws digging into the mat as she saw the two kits. They were small, too small-- probably recently kitted, from what she could tell. One gray, one black.

She extended her neck to grab the black kit, pulling her head above the surface to keep the kit from drowning. Sandstorm was yowling in distress, and when Emberdawn turned her head, she could see why.

The mat was falling apart, and the gray kit was still on it.

Just as it broke apart, the kit falling into the water with a wail, a streak of ginger followed.

Only heartbeats later, Sandstorm’s head brached the water, clutching the gray kit in her jaws. Emberdawn pushed off of the mat, blindly swimming until her paws hit mud and she scrambled onto the bank. Sandstorm joined her a blink later.

They sat there, panting heavily between licks to warm the kits. Emberdawn coughed once, then leaned down, sniffing the kit’s pelt. “RiverClan,” she mumbled tiredly.

“Good thing we landed on the RiverClan bank, then.”

The two mollies picked up the kits they had rescued, slogging through the muddy bank and into the reeds.

They had no idea how long they’d been walking when they finally met a patrol.

“Prey-stealers! Drop the prey!”

“Kit’s aren’t  _ prey _ , fur-brain!” Sandstorm spat. “We just pulled these kits out of the river, and we were trying to find your camp to return them.”

A dark warrior stalked forward. “Oh, and you weren’t  _ stealing _ them?”

“Hush, Blackclaw,” another tom hissed with a lash of his tail. “Those look like Mistyfoot’s missing kits.”

“I don’t believe that they  _ saved _ them! I think we caught them stealing our kits!”

“If we were stealing your kits, why would we be bringing them to your camp?”

With that comment, Blackclaw hissed, and the other tom led them through the reeds and brush.

Finally, they emerged into a small clearing.

The RiverClan cats watched them warily as they passed. Their ribs could be counted easily, each of their normally sleek pelts in disarray. Their eyes glinted with danger as the two mollies walked in, heads held high.

“My kits!” Mistyfoot rocketed out of the brush as the ThunderClan cats set the kits down. She began to lick them fiercely, bundling them into her chest with wild eyes. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Crookedstar asked, his growl drawing all gazes to him. “What are these ThunderClan cats doing here?”

“We were hunting by Sunningrocks and saw those two kits floating on a mat in the river. We pulled them out and brought them here when we realized what Clan they belonged to.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed considerably. “Oh?”

Mistyfoot looked up and abred her teeth at him. “Don’t you  _ dare _ start. They didn’t take my kits, you saw how the entire nursery floor was gone in the flooding. Emberdawn was the one to rescue kits from ShadowClan, why would she and her Clanmate look to take ours?”

Crookedstar bared his teeth. “They stole Silverstream, didn’t they?”

_ Ah, StarClan. _

Sandstorm looked at the tom flatly. “Silverstream came to us, actually. She’s being well cared for in ThunderClan’s nursery.”

“Lies! You kidnapped her, and there will be war if she is not returned!”

Emberdawn’s pelt spiked. “Are you really in  _ any _ position to start a war, Crookedstar?” When shocked silence met her words, she continued. “Your Clan is starving. And even if you  _ weren’t _ , would you want to take in a ThunderClan tom and raise half-Clan kits? Silverstream and one of our warriors broke the code, and when Silverstream got pregnant, she decided to come to ThunderClan because she knows how RiverClan cats are about half-Clan kits. On the other paw, in the last year ThunderClan adopted two abandoned kittypets and raised them into fine warriors, as well as taken in Yellowfang, who was exiled from ShadowClan for crimes she did not commit!”

Crookedstar flattened his ears, hissing. “Get out of my Clan.”

“Fine, then.”

The two turned, and as they began to walk away, an elder intercepted them.

“Emberdawn, is it? I’ve heard good things about you from the other Clans. I need to ask your help, please.”

“Graypool, be silent!” the RiverClan leader commanded, but she resolutely ignored him.

“The river has been poisoned by the Twolegs. We’re starving, and Mudfur doesn’t have all the herbs we need to heal the sick. Our camp has been flooded out, but even when that recedes, we will still be hungry. Please ask Bluestar if there is anything she can do to help us.”

With that, she padded back to where she had been lurking under the bushes.

Sandstorm and Emberdawn exchanged surprised glanced, shoulders heavy with the burden of a Clan’s safety, and began to pad home through the rain again.

Bluestar had sent Whitestorm and Darkstripe upriver when the two mollies explained what had happened, and Whitestorm reported that there had been a strange object leaking black slime into the river. He and Darkstripe had managed to pull it out of the water, and that was solved.

Now, though, Emberdawn was splayed out in the sun, her tail flicking in lazy circles.

Ravenflight stretched beside her with a low purr. “Warm day.”

“Newleaf is almost here,” she agreed sleepily. In the past few days, everything had once again been quiet. No problems demanded her attention. She didn’t have to go to the Gathering tonight, which was a relief for her. A moment of  _ peace _ , at long last. 

Yellowfang was sitting just outside her den, eyes closed and face upturned to let the sun sink into her fur. Goldenflower and Silverstream chatted aimlessly, swapping stories of their apprenticehood, while Sweetheart and Brindleface watched their kits tumble around.

Fernkit had found delight in grooming Emberdawn’s long fur, which she wasn’t going to complain about, letting the kit do as she pleased. Ashkit, Cloudkit, Snowkit, and Sugarkit played together gently, mostly chasing leaves as they pretended to have a whole Clan of their own, with Ashkit as their noble leader and Cloudkit his deputy. Sugarkit yelled something about ShadowClan attacking before jumping on Snowkit, claiming he was the ShadowClan leader coming to steal their territory, but she would stop him.

Moonkit had decided to sit with Yellowfang, tucked into the medicine cat’s chest and half-asleep as she watched her littermates play with Ashfur. She blended into her shadow shockingly well, only her brilliantly green eyes and white flecks really visible from where Emberdawn lay. 

Longtail and Dustpelt were sharing tongues, Longtail telling Dustpelt of what had happened during dawn patrol while Sandstorm looked on, instead sprawled out beside Brackenpaw, neither apprentice nor mentor speaking, but enjoying the company. Bluestar was napping on the Highrock, her tail tucked over her silver muzzle and blue eyes shut. Tigerclaw was out with the sunhigh patrol, but those who had no patrols just lazed about camp, no cat seeming to have the energy or will to part with their moments of bathing in the first warm day of the coming season. 

All was quiet, even when the sun sank and Ravenflight left for the Gathering. Emberdawn sat vigil, switching between watching the trees and patrolling the camp itself, checking in every den to be sure everyone was asleep. When she saw Whitestorm awake, she padded in to greet him.

“Shouldn’t you be on vigil?” he questioned.

“I am. I’m meant to keep my Clan safe, so I do rounds to make sure everyone is asleep. Can’t fight if you’re too tired to stand.”

He purred, nodding. “Yes, I understand. I just feel as if… well, as if something is coming. Something we couldn’t have predicted.”

She nodded back. “Try to get some rest, though. Whatever it is, ThunderClan will stay strong through it.”

“Of course.”

She took up watch again, and when the cats that had gone to the Gathering finally returned, she grinned, waving a tail in greeting. Ravenflight padded up to her just as Mousefur came to take her place during vigil.

“All the deputies will be bringing two warriors of their choosing to Fourtrees on the quarter-moon. Brokentail will be executed there.”

Emberdawn hummed sleepily, curling up in their nest and shoving away the sense of dread in her belly. Today was a good day, and she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forest of Secrets isn’t actually that long, most of it was basically just “Fireheart and Graystripe disobey the warrior code constantly” but since Emberdawn has more than one brain cell, she’s avoided a lot of the conflict of the book. So, I’m sorry that these parts are shorter. Bls leave comments bc they fuel me.


	20. Forest of Secrets: IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes to hell, but oddly enough, it’s the calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preemptively, I’m gonna say everyone will hate me.  
> However, may I direct you to Newton’s Laws? Every action has its equal-opposite reaction. Who said it was restricted to physical force?

When Emberdawn woke, it was to the sound of a hissed argument.

Slowly, she cracked one eyelid open. Dawn light flooded in, and the den was empty except for her, Ravenflight, and Graystripe. She turned her gaze to the two toms, pricking her ears subtly. 

“You weren’t  _ there _ , Graystripe! You were off playing with your RiverClan mate and you didn’t see what happened to her! You didn’t see how she didn’t eat, how she barely made it through each day because of the secret she was keeping for  _ you _ ! She was so angry that she tore up her own nest and we ended up sharing again-- and as much as I love sharing a nest with her, it shouldn’t have been under circumstances like that! I saw how she spent every spare moment hunting, bringing back the most prey and never taking anything for herself unless I or Sweetheart practically forced her. I saw how she would look physically ill every time you were brought up in a conversation!”

“Ravenflight--”

“And now you have the  _ audacity _ to say to me, to our  _ Clan, that _ being born a kittypet is worse than breaking the warrior code! That what you did was completely justified! Do you know what she said to me? She said that she was terrified if the Clan found out about what her friend had done, that they would be treated worse than she was when she first joined!”

Emberdawn felt frozen, but warm all at once. She let the events unfold before her eyes, because Ravenflight,  _ her mate _ , was giving voice to all those things she had refused to acknowledge with a righteous contempt in his violet eyes unmatched by any cat she had met before. 

“She is the most wonderful cat in this Clan, and the fact that she still stands by you is incredible. Emberdawn is  _ so _ forgiving,  _ so _ kind, and it’s so rare that she puts herself first. She adores Yellowfang, dotes on Sweetheart, fusses over Cinderpaw and fights with Sandstorm. I’m… I’m not asking you to try to be her next mate, and I can’t tell you to turn back time and undo what you’ve done. But try to  _ fix _ things… be there for her. Please.”

A few minutes passed, and Emberdawn opened her flaming amber eyes fully, sitting up with a groan. “What a night… I haven’t slept so peacefully in  _ moons _ .”

Ravenflight looked up from where he was pawing through bedding, searching for thorns. Normally an apprentice duty, but it seemed to be cathartic for him. “Tell me about it. First time I haven’t had a nightmare about  _ him _ in ages.”

She rose to her paws and padded to her mate, rubbing her muzzle against his comfortingly. “I think Bluestar is close to understanding. I’ve tried to tell her a few times, but I always get interrupted…”

“You’re trying. That’s what matters.”

It was raining.

Of course it was, really. It meant that newleaf was just around the bend, and it meant the season of hunger was over. 

The depression in the center of the clearing most of ThunderClan would mill about was transformed into a pool of water overnight, and Emberdawn unhappily slogged through it even as Silverstream delightedly splashed beside her.

“You RiverClan cats are  _ weird _ ,” she grumbled good-naturedly, and the queen grinned. 

“Aw, I always knew you thought highly of me.”

“Silverstream!”

Her name was barked like an order by a gravelly voice, and the two mollies froze. The rain had slowed to a gentle pitter-patter since the sun rose, and she could see across the clearing now. Crookedstar, flanked by Leopardfur and Blackclaw, was  _ in their camp _ .

Slowly, she backed out of the rainwater pool and stiffly regarded the RiverClan leader. Silverstream wasn’t far behind, and Bluestar melted from the shadows of Highrock. Her blue eyes were flinty as she stared at Crookedstar.

“What do you want?”

He growled, tail lashing. “I want my daughter back! You ThunderClan mange-pelts  _ stole _ her!”

“We didn’t steal her-- she came to me and asked for asylum. Is there a more  _ reasonable _ request you have, or will you leave?”

“Come here,” Crookedstar ordered Silverstream, and she stood stock-still, a tremor running through her body, but she did not move. She stared back at him, and slowly shook her head. 

“No, Father. My mate is here, and I’ve made  _ friends _ here, in only a few days. The other queens ask me how I’m feeling every day, the medicine cat is fun to banter with, and some of the warriors like Emberdawn have taken to chasing off any cat that looks at me wrong. They never treat me strangely because I’m your daughter, and Bluestar listened to me when I told her about the drafts in the nursery instead of telling me to fix it myself. I’m  _ happy _ in ThunderClan.”

Leopardfur growled. “That’s how it’s gonna be, huh? We have to do this the hard way?”

Bluestar’s eyes flashed with warning. “If you attack Silverstream, you would be attacking a queen and breaking the warrior code. Would you risk the wrath of StarClan for your petty grudges?”

“I wouldn’t attack  _ Silverstream _ ,” the cheetah-patterned molly meowed silkily, and that was the only warning the ThunderClan cats got before she launched herself at Emberdawn.

Her paws were as heavy as rocks, and she could do nothing but watch in absolute terror as Leopardfur’s mouth opened, fangs reaching for her throat with a deadly gleam in her eyes. Emberdawn let her own slide closed, accepting.

_ I’m going to die. _

She heard a pained yowl, and a snarl of anger, but it wasn’t her own. She opened her eyes, and saw a gray tom in front of her, clawing at Leopardfur as she was attached to his throat. 

Bluestar darted forwards, grabbing her scruff and inelegantly hauling Leopardfur away with a snarl. “Get out of my camp!”

“Give Silverstream back!” she bit back, her teeth stained with blood. Crookedstar lunged for Emberdawn this time, and she dodged back, slashing with her bad paw and splitting his nose. Distantly, she was aware of Bluestar ordering ThunderClan to attack as Blackclaw bristled, preparing to leap at the ThunderClan leader.

“Taste my claws!” Cinderpaw screeched, pouncing on Leopardfur. Brackenpaw, the only other apprentice in camp, followed suit, and soon, the RiverClan deputy was pinned by the pair, all hissing and spitting. Bluestar and Tigerclaw tag-teamed Crookedstar, and she saw Sweetheart and Brindleface had run out of the nursery to shred Blackclaw’s ears.

A gurgling wheeze interrupted Emberdawn’s thoughts, and she spun to her savior.

Graystripe was gasping for air, crimson gushing from a gash in his throat. Yellowfang rocketed across the clearing, but the tom was crumbling, his knees buckling even as Emberdawn tucked her body beneath his, desperate to hold up his significantly larger mass. 

_ No. Please. No, don’t take him. Not now. _

Silverstream screamed, and the small battle stilled. All eyes turned to the warrior, who was on his side, his breaths shallow and fading fast.

Yellowfang looked up, baring her teeth. “Get out. Don’t  _ ever _ come back.”

The RiverClan patrol scattered quickly, running out the tunnel, and Emberdawn knelt by her friend, tears blurring her vision. “Yellowfang-- do something! You-- you have to!”

The medicine cat was oddly silent as the mate and best friend of Graystripe knelt by him, the two mollies working together in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. Graystripe’s eyes focused on Silverstream.

His voice was gurgling and pained, but he spoke. “I love you.”

With those words, his eyes slid closed, and his chest stilled.

“No-- you don’t  _ get _ to do this!” Silverstream licked his face rapidly. “You don’t get to do this to me!”

“There was nothing I could have done.” Yellowfang sounded grief-laden as Emberdawn stood frozen, staring at Graystripe.

_ Wake up. Wake up, please. _

_ I can’t lose you like I lost Spottedleaf. _

Ravenflight pressed against her, but she felt like her mind was full of static, drowning out whatever he was saying. Tears slipped down her muzzle, and at last, she tore her eyes away from her friend’s face.

His blood mixed with the water of the pool, staining it crimson as tendrils of it permeated the clear surface. Words came to her, unbidden.  _ “Beware the bloodstained water, and when the stars fade, fire must burn brighter than even them. _

Come nightfall, the elders had arranged Graystripe’s body near the tunnel, since the center of the clearing was filled with water. Most of the Clan had been away on patrols, and they were all equally shocked to see Graystripe, curled as if he were sleeping, by the entrance, clearly dead.

The shock had worn off, but a numbness had settled in her chest. Emberdawn’s paws dragged as she padded up to press her nose against her friend’s cold flank, shivering at the scent of death underneath the lavender. 

“You were my friend from the beginning, even when you hurt me… and you will always be my brother. I swear on my honor as a Clan cat that I will protect Silverstream and your kits with my life.

“May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter where you sleep.”

She backed away, blinking away tears before she pressed her face into Ravenflight’s side, refusing to look at Graystripe as his mate wept over him. Refusing to acknowledge the cruel reality she lived in.

In a fair world, in a world that loved her, she would fondly push Spottedleaf and laugh, because the only reason she would be awake would be for vigil. She would peer into the nursery and see Graystripe curled around Silverstream like he had every night since her arrival. She would check the elder’s den to make sure Yellowfang wasn’t awake and grumbling about the quality of her nest. She would see Rosetail ducking into the leader’s den like she used to when she felt too cold after brushing muzzles with her son Redtail, who had crept into the warrior’s den, laughing alongside Lionheart before they settled down to sleep.

But this was not a fair world, and it did not love her. 

Instead, she was left with nothing but ghosts of what might have been.

At dawn, she was in Bluestar’s den.

“Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw fought well.” Emberdawn’s voice sounded flat and tired as she spoke to Bluestar. She tried to pick up her tone a bit, to look her leader in the eye… this was her apprentice, after all. With great difficulty, she shoved the bleeding, prone form of her best friend out of her mind and thought instead of Cinderpaw. “She’s come a long way. Her injury barely set her back, and she’s already a great hunter, and she fights as well as I do, if not better.”

“I see.” Bluestar nodded, and smiled gently at her. “Go. The vigil is over, so you should get some rest. I will talk to Sandstorm when she is rested, and if she agrees, they will get their warrior names.”

“What of the other apprentices?” she asked, angling her ears.

Her leader looked up, deep in thought. “Unfortunately, they haven’t had their assessments yet, and they did not participate in the battles. I can’t make them warriors just yet.”

“I understand.” Her tail swished, and she exited the den.

“Cinderpaw, chin up.” Emberdawn reached up to fondly lick her apprentice’s ear, and Cinderpaw rolled her eyes with a snort. 

“You don’t have to fuss over me!”

She huffed in return, turning her head just in time to see Bluestar settling herself on Highrock.

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

As she padded to the Highrock, she closed her eyes, quietly reminiscing. Graystripe’s death had been a few sunrises ago, now, and the Clan had settled into the new order of things. Death was common in the forest, and most of the older cats had seen it so often that moving past the death of a Clanmate was normal for them. 

But for Emberdawn, it only served to weigh heavily on her mind. Would Graystripe visit her dreams? She hoped not… he deserved peace, and she couldn’t look him in the eyes after seeing how he had taken a deathblow for  _ her _ .

Silverstream pressed against her side, and Emberdawn nosed her cheek. “How are you holding up?”

Her voice was tight as she replied. “Yellowfang says labor could start any day now. Brindleface has been insisting I stay in the nursery full-time.”

Bluestar raised her tail, and a hush fell over the clearing. “First and foremost, a pair of warriors must be made today. Sandstorm, Emberdawn, have your apprentices completed their training to a satisfactory degree?”

“They have,” the two mollies chorused.

Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw stumbled forward on unsteady paws, and Cinderpaw was beaming. 

“I, Bluestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn. Brackenpaw, Cinderpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”

The gray apprentice’s voice shook as she spoke, raising her head with visible pride. “I do.”

“I do,” her litter-brother echoed.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names.” Bluestar jumped down, in front of the two. “Brackenpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Brackenfur. StarClan honors your patience and strength, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

He licked her shoulder as she rested her chin on his head, murmuring words Emberdawn could not hear, before looking to Cinderpaw.

“Cinderpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Cinderheart. StarClan honors our enthusiasm and determination, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

“Brackenfur! Cinderheart! Brackenfur! Cinderheart!”

And when Cinderheart turned to her former metor, eyes shining, she saw unadulterated pride. “Ember, I did it! I really did it!”

“Sure did, Cinder.” She nudged Cinderheart gently, urging her to sit as Bluestar called a pair of kits forward.

“Fernkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Fernpaw. Your mentor will be Darkstripe.”

She barely heard Bluestar’s words to Darkstripe as he strode forward, exuding smugness before he touched noses with Fernpaw. Soon enough, Ashpaw was apprenticed to Dustpelt, causing her old denmate to rejoice loudly, and Emberdawn rolled her eyes.

By moonhigh, Emberdawn was watching the two brand-new kits squirm at Silverstream’s belly, and she couldn’t help but purr as Sugarkit wandered over to sniff at them. “Do they have names yet?” she asked-- well, more demanded, but she was barely more than a moon old. 

“Featherkit and Stormkit,” she replied gently, her clear blue eyes distant. “Stormkit was my father’s name before he broke his jaw as a kitten… and Graystripe wanted to name one of our kits Featherkit, if we had a she-kit.”

Emberdawn nodded, giving Silverstream a comforting lick between the ears before exiting the nursery, letting the exhausted queens rest. She gazed up at the sky, where stars were peeking between the clouds, and tried to smile.

Maybe everything would be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry


	21. Forest of Secrets: V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bluestar’s perspective. Yellowfang’s punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this part is way shorter than the others, but Forest of Secrets is LITERALLY just “Fireheart and Graystripe Break the Warrior Code: The Book” and Emberdawn isn’t as much of an idiot.

Bluestar was not a dim-witted molly.

She had run ThunderClan for seasons, making tough decisions in a heartbeat and negotiating peace and leading her warriors into battle when that was not an option. As she got older, she tended to let her deputies head battles, but she was no less involved. She made sure the then-apprentice Emberdawn was the one to go after Yellowfang, knowing she was her best chance at getting the truth. She was the one to give the order to find WindClan and bring them home. She was the one to lead the charge against ShadowClan and RiverClan. She was the one who sent Whitestorm and Darkstripe upriver to rid RiverClan of the poison, in a gesture of good faith.

She was never the best leader, but she tried. She cared for every one of her Clanmates, cared for their quirks and their lives and their families. Bluestar  _ cared _ , and maybe, even though she wasn’t the  _ best _ leader, she was a  _ good _ one.

So when Emberdawn had confronted her about Mistyfoot-- well, she had always known the little black she-cat was sharp. For what she lacked in brute force, she had intelligence to back it up. And when Bluestar admitted it aloud for the first time in her life that two RiverClan warriors were  _ her _ kits, kits she’d had with Oakheart, that she practically murdered Mosskit in her effort to keep Thistleclaw out of power, Bluestar saw something she never expected nor wanted to see in the huntress’s eyes.

_ Understanding _ .

She had  _ understood _ why Bluestar gave up her own kits. She had  _ understood _ the struggle, the need to prevent a bloodthirsty monster from becoming leader. 

_ “I watched him die, Bluestar. We were looking right at each other when his throat was ripped out.” _

Since then, Bluestar has watched her warriors carefully. She knew Emberdawn was most likely referring to Redtail, but if Oakheart didn’t kill him-- who did? She was trapped in a mystery, and the price of failure was a blood-soaked ThunderClan.

She didn’t dare approach Emberdawn again about the topic. Since then, things had been hectic with trying to help Silverstream settle in, but with Graystripe’s death, Bluestar watched the huntress sink into herself, forcing a smile like she was trying to convince herself she was okay. So she waited.

And yet, she wished she hadn’t. 

The camp had exploded into the sounds of cats fighting, and she felt frozen in shock and horror as Brokentail’s rogues clashed with her warriors, the entire battle a mess of blood and pain. 

It was  _ senseless _ .

Yellowfang was wrestling Brokentail to the ground, hissing and spitting. Emberdawn was streaking towards Bluestar. She backed into her den, deciding to trust her Clan as the huntress ran in after her. There was clearly something she had to say.

Just as Emberdawn darted in, Tigerclaw appeared behind her, pinning her to the ground with teeth bared. Bluestar inhaled sharply. “Tigerclaw! Release her!”

“She led the rogues here!” he snarled back, and Bluestar felt her chest seize, looking to Emberdawn for confirmation. There was nothing in the black molly’s face except utter terror, one massive paw keeping her jaws shut as she stared up at ThunderClan’s deputy with nothing but unadulterated fear in her fire-bright eyes. “She’s a traitor that has to be killed!”

His claws unsheathed fully, glinting in the low light of her den, and Bluestar’s eyes went wide. “Do not kill her, Tigerclaw! She might yet be innocent!”

“The rogues won’t stop coming unless she’s dead!” His head shot down, teeth burying themselves into her throat. Emberdawn, her muzzle now free,  _ screamed _ , a sound so filled with agony that the leader froze, her paws like lead.

Tigerclaw dropped her with a dull  _ thud _ . Crimson seeped slowly from the new gashes in Emberdawn’s throat, and her eyes were half-shut.

_ She’s dead. Oh, StarClan above, she’s dead _ .

Yet, Tigerclaw just glared at her body in contempt, turning to face Bluestar. His lip curled, stained red. “Now it’s your turn.” Bluestar gasped, but not because of the threat-- it was instead because Emberdawn slowly rose to her paws, ignoring the blood dripping onto the stone floor. “You will die here, and I will live as the hero of ThunderClan, as their  _ leader _ . We will dominate the forest as we were always meant to!”

The leader met Tigerclaw halfway, crashing her body against his in a flurry of teeth and claws. Her age had slowed her, and she got a nasty slash to the face. With a yowl of pain and fury, Bluestar cut deep into Tigerclaw’s chest fur, forcing him back a few steps as they gasped for breath.

A black blur slammed into Tigerclaw’s throat, a flash of white teeth and amber eyes the only other colors besides inky black as Emberdawn sank her teeth deep into Tigerclaw’s throat, driving him out of the den. Bluestar followed, slashing at the tom’s face and driving him back even more as Emberdawn practically hung off his throat. 

“ _ Die _ !” he yowled, trying to rip her off. 

And yet all at once, the Clan turned to see their leader fighting Tigerclaw, and converged upon him.

There was no mercy given to him by Whitestorm and Longtail as they dragged him to the center of the clearing, hissing and spitting the whole way but weakened by his throat wound. Emberdawn panted hard, and looked at Bluestar.

“I-- I saw him leading them in,” she grumbled, shaking her head and sending scarlet drops flying. “And when he attacked me-- I played dead. Most of what he got was, uh, fluff. It’ll… it’ll scar, but it’s, it’s just a flesh wound.”

Bluestar, despite the situation, found herself barking a laugh. “Never change, my friend.” The gash on her face stung deeply, but she ignored it, turning to address the Clan. A pair of rogues lay dead in the clearing-- she didn’t care to pin names to their faces. Instead, with cold eyes and a heavy heart, she climbed onto the Highrock and looked at her deputy.

“Tigerclaw, you attacked me and Emberdawn with the intent to kill.”

He looked around, clearly nervous, and hissed. “Lies! Nothing but--”

“ _You_ _killed Redtail_!” Emberdawn’s shriek cut off whatever he was going to say next, and most, if not _all_ of the Clan turned to her, staring as the black huntress spat the words like poison. 

“I would  _ never _ !”

Dustpelt stepped forth, his eyes flashing dangerously. “We saw it. Me, her--”

“-- and me.” Ravenflight’s soft voice was more threatening than it had ever been before. The two toms stared at Tigerclaw in utter contempt. “We watched you, at Sunningrocks. When you ripped his throat out. And we were  _ apprentices _ \-- we were too scared to go to Bluestar with what we had seen. We were terrified of being next. And now that Emberdawn was the one who stepped up and tried to tell Bluestar, we’re proven right. You’re nothing more than a murderer.”

“When Lionheart was made deputy, we all saw how you reacted. You were bitter, angry. Like your plan hadn’t gone your way. I wouldn’t be all that surprised if you were the ones to show Brokentail where our camp was in the first place.”

Emberdawn limped forwards, and Ravenflight darted to her side, letting his mate lean on him heavily. “You tried to kill Bluestar to become leader and bring ruin to the forest. You’re no better than Brokentail.”

Bluestar sucked in a sharp breath, letting her eyes flutter closed before she spoke. “Tigerclaw, you have been sentenced to exile for your crimes against ThunderClan. By the next sunrise, if you are found on ThunderClan territory, you will be killed.”

Tigerclaw hissed, and looked around at his Clanmates. “Darkstripe, come with me.”

The dark gray tom shifted, looking away. “You tried to kill  _ Bluestar _ … I thought you were better than that.”

“Dustpelt?” His massive head swung to him, and Dustpelt openly snarled.

“I watched you kill my mentor! I hope you eat carrion and  _ choke _ on it!”

“Longtail?” Tigerclaw tried again, and said tom growled lowly, pressing himself against Sweetheart, who hovered in front of the nursery protectively. 

With a lash of his tail, he hissed, “As if I would follow a fox-heart like  _ you _ anywhere!”

Seeming to understand he had no allies, Tigerclaw instead turned to look at Emberdawn. Bluestar growled in warning, but he made no move to attack. 

“ _ You _ . Keep your eyes open,  _ Kittypet _ . Keep your ears pricked. Keep looking behind you. Because one day, I’ll find you-- and you’ll be crowfood.”

Emberdawn didn’t respond, only watched as he dragged himself out of camp, then looked up to Bluestar. 

She sighed, and looked up to the stars that were beginning to peek out of the sky. The moon was barely visible in the eastern sky, and she gathered her mind. 

“I say these words before StarClan so that our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice. The new deputy of ThunderClan is Emberdawn.”

She barely registered the look of shock on the huntress’s face as the adrenaline ran dry in Bluestar’s system, and her legs buckled under the crushing weight of exhaustion and betrayal. She slid sideways, distantly hearing shouts of fear, and her head hit something solid.

The world went black.

Everything felt muted as Emberdawn sat outside the medicine den. Her throat had been covered in cobwebs and poultices, yet Bluestar was still inside.

Yellowfang said the leader would live, but she had taken quite a blow to the head when she fell off Highrock. Emberdawn was waiting to see her-- waiting for anything, really. 

_ Deputy _ . The word carried so much weight in it, and she felt cold. Every deputy of ThunderClan she had seen was either dead or a traitor. First Redtail, then Lionheart… and Tigerclaw. The position seemed cursed.

“Here, eat these. They will help you.”

Emberdawn padded in just in time to see Yellowfang rolling three bright red berries to Brokentail, who laid pathetically in a moss nest on the other side of the den that held a sleeping Bluestar.

Yellowfang’s eyes cut to the huntress, but she pointedly looked away. He deserved to die. He was the whole reason Tigerclaw had been deputy in the first place.

Brokentail lapped them up without question, chewing and swallowing silently. Yellowfang glowered at him.

“You know, Tigerclaw was a lot like you. He tried to kill his leader, and didn’t care if any kit-sized cats got in his way.”

Brokentail hissed, then coughed. Foamy blood appeared on his lips, and as he licked it, his blind eyes went wide.

“My-- I can’t feel my paws.”

“That just means it’s working.” The medicine cat’s voice was utterly cold, and yet filled with disdain. 

“Why?”

“Deathberries.” 

Brokentail froze, and then spasmed.

His entire body convulsed, his mouth foaming pink as he opened his jaws to wail but nothing came out. He jsut kept thrashing, claws flying everywhere, and Yellowfang only watched with cold eyes. “I-- die like my worthless-- rogue mother, then!” he snarled through gasps.

“No.” She stared down at the pathetic tom that had once been leader. “You die at the paws of your mother.”

His eyes flashed with understanding and rage just as they went dull with death.

Silence reigned the den, and Emberdawn looked at the body impassively.

Eventually, Yellowfang spoke. 

“I loved Raggedstar, once. And when I became pregnant-- well, I ran off to somewhere secluded and had four kits. Three of them were stillborn-- I thought that was StarClan’s punishment for breaking the medicine cat code.”

Emberdawn rested her tail on the ancient molly’s back, and they sat in silence together before she finally worked up the energy to finish. 

“But the punishment was that  _ this one _ survived.”

Emberdawn licked her ear comfortingly, before slipping out, headed to the nursery. 

Sweetheart was sleeping soundly, her four kits curled at her belly. Goldenflower was awake, though, and looking around with fear in her eyes.

Her own newborn kits lay in the curve of her belly. A tawny-spotted she-kit, and a dark brown tabby tomkit that looked just like his father.

She felt her blood running cold with fear, but she shook it off, giving Goldenflower a strained smile before curling beside her sister, too exhausted to consider going back to the warrior’s den.

The last thought she had before she fell asleep terrified her to no end.

_ What will I do if Bluestar doesn’t recover? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends the third part of my rewrite.  
> Tell me what you thought of the outcome! Theories, general comments? All welcome!


	22. Rising Storm: Allegiances

**THUNDERCLAN**

_ LEADER  _

Bluestar - Blue-gray molly, tinged with silver around her muzzle.

_ DEPUTY _

Emberdawn - tiny black she-cat with amber eyes and a permanent limp in front-left leg 

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Yellowfang - old dark gray she-cat with a broad, flat face

_WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Whitestorm - big white tom APPRENTICE, BRIGHTPAW

Darkstripe - sleek black-and-gray tabby tom APPRENTICE, FERNPAW

Longtail - pale tabby tom with dark black stripes APPRENTICE, SWIFTPAW

Runningwind - swift tabby tom 

Mousefur - small dusky brown she-cat

Dustpelt - dark brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, ASHPAW

Ravenflight - small, skinny black-furred tom with a tiny white dash on his chest and white-tipped tail and violet eyes

Sandstorm - pale ginger she-cat 

Frostfur - beautiful white molly with blue eyes

Brindleface - pretty tabby molly

Brackenfur - golden-brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Cinderheart - dark gray she-cat with clear blue eyes and a crippled hind leg

_APPRENTICES_ (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

Swiftpaw - black-and-white tom

Brightpaw - white she-cat with ginger patches

Thornpaw - golden-brown tabby tom with pale blue eyes

Ashpaw - pale gray tom with darker flecks and dark blue eyes

Fernpaw - pale gray molly with darker flecks and pale green eyes

_QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Willowpelt - very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes

Silverstream - pretty slender silver tabby, formerly RiverClan

Goldenflower - pale ginger queen

Speckletail - pale tabby, the oldest queen

Sweetheart - light brown tabby she-cat with green eyes

_ KITS _

Cloudkit - pure white tomkit with green eyes (Mother: Sweetheart)

Moonkit - very dark gray she-kit with white flecks and green eyes (Mother: Sweetheart)

Sugarkit - light brown tabby she-kit with white chest/paws and green eyes (Mother: Sweetheart)

Snowkit - pale tabby tomkit with white chest/paws and blue eyes (Mother: Sweetheart)

Featherkit - silver tabby she-kit with blue eyes (Mother: Silverstream)

Stormkit - dark gray tomkit with amber eyes (Mother: Silverstream)

Bramblekit - dark brown tabby tomkit with amber eyes (Mother: Goldenflower)

Tawnykit - tawny-spotted she-kit with green eyes (Mother: Goldenflower)

_ELDERS_ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Halftail - big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing

Smallear - gray tom with very small ears

Patchpelt - small black-and-white tom

One-eye - pale gray molly, the oldest cat in Thunderclan. Virtually blind and deaf

Dappletail - once-pretty tortoiseshell molly with a lovely dappled coat

**SHADOWCLAN**

_LEADER_

Nightstar - old black tom

_DEPUTY_

Cinderfur - thin gray tom

_MEDICINE CAT(S)_

Fleetwhisker - small gray-and-white tom

WARRIORS (toms, she-cats without kits)

Stumpytail - brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, BROWNPAW

Littlecloud - very small tabby tom

Wetfoot - gray tabby tom APPRENTICE, OAKPAW

Whitethroat - black tom with white chest and paws

 _QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Dawncloud - small tabby queen

Brightflower - black-and-white queen

Darkflower - black queen

Tallpoppy - long-legged light brown tabby queen

 _ELDERS_ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Ashfur - thin gray tom

**WINDCLAN**

_LEADER_

Tallstar - black-and-white tom with a very long tail

_DEPUTY_

Deadfoot - black tom with a dead paw

_MEDICINE CAT(S)_

Barkface - short-tailed brown tom

 _WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Mudclaw - mottled dark brown tom APPRENTICE, WEBPAW

Tornear - tabby tom APPRENTICE, RUNNINGPAW

Onewhisker - young brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, WHITEPAW

Runningbrook - light gray tabby she-cat

 _QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Ashfoot - gray queen

Morningflower - tortoiseshell queen

**RIVERCLAN**

_LEADER_

Crookedstar - huge light-colored tabby with a twisted jaw

_DEPUTY_

Leopardfur - unusually spotted black-and-golden tabby molly

_MEDICINE CAT(S)_

Mudfur - long-furred light brown tom

 _WARRIORS_ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Blackclaw - smoky black tom APPRENTICE, HEAVYPAW

Stonefur - gray tom with heavily scarred ears APPRENTICE, SHADEPAW

Loudbelly - dark brown tom APPRENTICE, SEALPAW

_QUEENS_

Mistyfoot - blue-gray molly with blue eyes

**CATS OUTSIDE CLANS**

_KITTYPETS_

Smudge - plump and friendly black-and-white tom

Hattie - little brown tabby kitten with amber eyes

_LONERS_

Barley - black-and-white tom who lives on a farm close to the forest

_ROGUES_

Blackfoot - large white tom with jet-black paws, formerly ShadowClan

Boulder - silver tabby tom, formerly ShadowClan

Tigerclaw - dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws, formerly ThunderClan


	23. Rising Storm: Prologue

An agonized groan echoed across the moon-bleached floor of a forest clearing. Two cats crouched in the shadows under one of the bushes at the edge. One of them writhed in pain, lashing his long tail. The other cat raised himself to his paws and bowed his head. He had been a medicine cat for many long moons, and yet he could only watch helplessly as the leader of his Clan was overpowered by the sickness that had already claimed so many lives. He knew of no herb that would ease the cramps and fever this sickness brought, and his patchy gray fur bristled with frustration as the leader convulsed again and then fell exhausted into the moss-lined nest. Fearfully, the medicine cat leaned forward and sniffed. There was still breath in the leader’s body, but it was foul and shallow, and the tom’s thin flanks heaved with every gasp.

A screech ripped through the woods. Not a cat this time, but an owl. The medicine cat stiffened. Owls brought death to the forest, stealing prey and even kits that had strayed too far from their mothers. The medicine cat raised beseeching eyes to the sky, praying to the spirits of his warrior ancestors that the owl’s call was not an ill omen. He stared through the branches that formed the roof of the den, searching the dark sky for Silverpelt. But the swathe of stars where StarClan lived was hidden by clouds, and the medicine cat shivered with fear. Had their warrior ancestors abandoned them to the sickness that ravaged the camp?

Then the wind stirred the trees, rattling the brittle leaves. High above, the clouds shifted and a single star sent a frail beam of light through the roof of the den. In the shadows, the leader drew in a long, steady breath. Hope leaped like a fish in the medicine cat’s heart. StarClan was with them after all.

Weak with relief, the medicine cat lifted his chin, giving silent thanks to his warrior ancestors for sparing the life of his leader. As he narrowed his eyes against the shaft of starlight, he heard spirit-voices murmuring deep inside his head. They whispered of glorious battles to come, of new territories, and of a greater Clan rising from the ashes of the old. The medicine cat felt joy surge in his chest and pulsate through his paws. This star carried much more than a message of survival.

Suddenly, without warning, a wide gray wing swept across the ray of starlight, plunging the den into darkness. The medicine cat shrank back and pressed his belly to the floor as the owl screeched down and raked the roof of the den with its talons. It must have smelled the sickness that weakened the leader, and swooped in search of easy prey. But the branches were too thick for the owl to break through.

The medicine cat listened to the slow beating of wings as the owl flew away into the forest, then sat up, heart hammering, and searched the night sky once more. Like the owl, the star was gone. In its place was only blackness. Dread crawled beneath the medicine cat’s pelt and clutched at his heart.

“Did you hear that?” a tom called through the entrance of the den, his voice high-pitched with alarm. The medicine cat squeezed quickly out into the clearing, knowing the Clan would be waiting for an interpretation of the omen. Warriors, queens, and elders— those well enough to move from their nests— huddled in the shadows on the far side of the clearing. The medicine cat paused for a moment, listening to the Clan murmuring anxiously to one another.

“What’s an owl doing here?” hissed a mottled warrior, his eyes glinting in the darkness.

“They never come so close to the camp,” wailed an elder.

“Did it take any kits?” demanded another warrior, turning his broad head to the cat beside him.

“Not this time,” replied the silver queen. She had lost three of her kits to the sickness, and her voice was dull with pain. “But it might come back. It must smell our weakness.”

“You’d think the stench of death would keep it away.” A tabby warrior limped into the clearing. His paws were clotted with mud and his fur ruffled. He had been burying a Clan mate. There were more graves to be dug, but he was too weak to go on that night. “How’s our leader?” he asked, his voice tight with fear.

“We don’t know,” replied the mottled tom.

“Where’s Fleetwhisker?” whined the queen.

The cats peered around the clearing and Fleetwhisker saw their frightened eyes gleaming in the dark. He could hear the rising panic in their voices and knew they needed to be soothed, assured that StarClan had not abandoned them completely. Taking a deep breath, the cat forced the fur to lie flat on his shoulders and padded across the clearing.

“We don’t need a medicine cat to tell us the owl’s screech spoke of death,” whimpered an elder, his eyes brimming with fear.

“How do you know?” spat the mottled warrior.

“Yes,” agreed the queen, glancing at the elder. “StarClan doesn’t speak to you!” She turned as the medicine cat reached them. “Was the owl an omen?” she mewed anxiously.

Shifting his paws uncomfortably, the medicine cat avoided a direct reply. “StarClan has spoken to me tonight,” he announced. “Did you see the star shine between the clouds?”

The queen nodded, and around her the other cats’ eyes flickered with desperate hope. “What did it mean?” asked the elder.

“Will our leader live?” called the tabby warrior.

The medicine cat hesitated.

“He cannot die now!” cried the queen. “What about his nine lives? StarClan granted them only six moons ago!”

“There is only so much strength StarClan can give,” answered Fleetwhisker. “But our ancestors have not forgotten us,” he went on, trying to push aside the image of the owl’s dark wing as it blotted out the thin ray of light. “The star brought a message of hope.”

A high-pitched moan sounded from a dim corner of the camp, and a tortoiseshell queen sprang up and hurried toward the sound. The others continued to stare at the medicine cat with eyes that begged for comfort.

“Did StarClan speak of rain?” asked a young warrior. “It’s been so long since it rained, and it might cleanse the camp of the sickness.”

The medicine cat shook his head. “Not of rain, but of a great new dawn that awaits our Clan. In that ray of light, our warrior ancestors showed me the future, and it will be glorious!”

“Then we’ll survive?” mewed the silver queen.

“We’ll do more than survive,” he promised. “We shall rule the whole forest!”

Murmurs of relief flickered through the cats, the first purrs that had been heard in the camp for nearly a moon. But Fleetwhisker turned his head away to hide his trembling whiskers. He prayed that the Clan would not ask again about the owl. He dared not share the dreadful warning StarClan had added when the bird’s wing had obscured the star—that the Clan would pay the highest possible price for their great new dawn.


	24. Rising Storm: I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emberdawn is stressed out. Bluestar isn’t helping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was late! I legitimately forgot that Rising Storm and A Dangerous Path were two different books and I had to act accordingly to separate them in my writing. In other words, Rising Storm and A Dangerous Path are going to be shorter.

The greenleaf sun beat down on Emberdawn as she stood anxiously beside her leader on the smooth top of Highrock, overlooking the Clan that milled about, most sunning themselves but others just enjoying their free time. Only the sunhigh patrol was out, and they would return soon.

On Emberdawn’s other side was Yellowfang, who grumbled about the heat more than she did despite having thinner fur than the black huntress. “What is all this about, huh, kitty?”

Nearly five moons had come and passed since Tigerclaw’s exile, yet she still had to get used to being in any position of power. She was used to chatting aimlessly on days like these, and now her Clanmates would stop and watch her with respect in their eyes, as if waiting to be sent on patrol. 

Being a deputy wasn’t  _ nearly _ as great as Tigerclaw had made it seem.

“Apprentices,” she replied anxiously.

“Ah, and you’d know about that.” Yellowfang nudged her heartily, nearly sending her careening off of Highrock. “You spend so much time in the nursery, I was wondering if you were a queen!”

“Not anytime soon, no… Sweetheart’s kits are a bit past ready to be apprenticed, and it’s about a moon until Goldenflower and Silverstream’s kits will be old enough. We should probably figure out what to do with them. Bluestar, should we use your den?” It was a bit of a plea, since the heat was starting to make her head spin, but Bluestar nodded shortly.

The leader led them into her den and sat in her nest, looking blankly at the two. Emberdawn felt her heart constrict painfully looking at her.

Since she fell off Highrock and hit her head all those moons ago, she hadn’t been quite…  _ there _ . She could walk and talk and hunt, but her mind was clouded with the past. She would snarl accusations of treachery at passing warriors, watching her Clan with suspicious eyes… and other times, she acted like a young warrior again, speaking to “Moonflower” and “Snowfur” and occasionally asking after Oakheart. 

“I want Moonkit.” The medicine cat’s voice was blunt, and garnered no arguments. “She’s been spending more time in my den than she does with her littermates. Bluestar?”

She nodded, looking aside. “ThunderClan needs more medicine cats.”

“Then we have Snowkit the first, Sugarkit, and Cloudkit.” Speckletail had ended up naming her only kit Snowkit, so it became a bit of a running joke in the nursery. “Personally, I think Cloudkit should go to Brindleface. She’s been out of the nursery for a while now, and since she hasn’t gotten a mate since her fling with Whitestorm, she’s in need of something to focus on. She’s used to Cloudkit’s brattiness.”

Yellowfang hummed in response. “You think Runningwind could handle Sugarkit? She’s basically a clone of her mother, and he’ll know how to handle her.”

“Good idea… maybe Brackenfur with Snowkit the first? He’s patient, and even though he’s a relatively new warrior, he can handle it.”

Bluestar nodded again. “I will announce it to the Clan in a moment.”

“Then what about Goldenflower and Silverstream’s kits? It’s a good idea to have them figured out preemptively.”

Emberdawn flicked her tail, pensieve. “Silverstream’s kits are technically half-Clan, and Goldenflower’s kits’ father was Tigerclaw, so we have to be careful with who we choose. Anyone like Darkstripe is out, since he has some pretty… rude words to say about non-ThunderClan kits.”

“Ravenflight would be good for Featherkit,” Bluestar mumbled, and the two mollied turned to look at her. Emberdawn smiled sadly to herself-- as much as her leader’s mind had been broken, in moments like this when she could pull her thoughts together, she was still brilliant. “He had been friends with Graystripe, and doesn’t hold a grudge against Silverstream, even though he felt betrayed by him.”

“Then maybe Cinderheart for Stormkit? He’s pretty shy, and she can teach him to be more energetic.”

The medicine cat nodded approvingly. “And of Goldenflower’s kits… Tawnykit and Bramblekit. You could handle another apprentice…”

“I can take Tawnykit when she’s old enough.” Shame flashed hot through her pelt, and she looked away. “I can’t… every time I look at Bramblekit, I remember Tigerclaw’s jaws closing around my throat. I want him to be mentored by someone that won’t look at him and think about how he might end up like his father.”

“That’s very mature of you,” Yellowfang meowed, nudging her gently. “How about him, huh? Sandstorm, maybe? She’s a good cat, with a good head on her shoulders.”

“I agree… she can take on another apprentice.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Speaking of apprentices… Bluestar, it’s about time Swiftpaw, Thornpaw, and Brightpaw were made warriors.”

But Bluestar wasn’t listening, seeming to be off in her own world.

Emberdawn looked away, grief tearing deep into her chest. Her leader was barely there most days, hardly clinging to sanity… and yet Emberdawn still stood here, with the weight of ThunderClan on her too-young shoulders.

Yellowfang brought her out of the leader’s den and into the nursery, where none of the queens nor kits resided on such a bright and lovely day. The two mollies crouched in the back, lingering in the shadows as they alone felt the crushing weight of responsibility as Bluestar declined. 

Finally, Emberdawn spoke. 

“I don’t know how I can reach out to her anymore… she doesn’t want to listen.”

“There isn’t much we can do.”

“But the apprentices-- they deserve to be warriors. It’s been far too long.”

“I know.”

After a long while, Emberdawn exited the nursery, giving her sister a fond lick on the ears. In the corner of her eye, she saw Longtail entering the camp with Swiftpaw and Cinderheart. The three waved their tails at her, and they all heard Bluestar’s yowl.

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

ThunderClan clustered together quickly, and Emberdawn pressed herself against Ravenflight. The violet-eyed tom smiled widely.

“Hey, love.” His tongue rasped over her ear, and she purred.

Bluestar stared over the Clan for a heartbeat, and began the ceremony. 

“Cloudkit, Sugarkit, Snowkit, and Moonkit, step forth.”

The four kits all strode out, all beaming at each other. Cloudkit’s fur was sticking up every which way, something he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by. Sweetheart hovered by the edge, shooting him a half-proud, half-disappointed look.

“Cloudkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Cloudpaw. Your mentor will be Brindleface.”

The tabby ex-queen blinked in surprise as she slipped through the crowd, looking at the overexcited Cloudpaw. Finally, she beamed. 

“Brindleface, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have received excellent training from Stormtail, and you have shown yourself to be thoughtful and wise. You will be the mentor of Cloudpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to him.”

The two touched noses, and Brindleface’s eyes shone. 

“Sugarkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Sugarpaw. Your mentor will be Runningwind.”

The lithe warrior barked a laugh as he strode up, waving his tail. Sugarpaw grinned back, apparently understanding why he was chosen. 

“Runningwind, you are ready to take on another apprentice. You were an excellent mentor to Sweetheart, and you have proven yourself to be quick-thinking and enthusiastic. You will be the mentor of Sugarpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to her.

“Snowkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Snowpaw. Your mentor will be Brackenfur.”

The tom lumbered forward, blinking fondly at the new apprentice. Snowpaw smiled back, lashing his tail in his excitement and accidentally whacking Moonkit in the face. She grumbled good-naturedly.

“Brackenfur, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have received excellent training from Sandstorm, and you have shown yourself to be patient and skillful. You will be the mentor of Snowpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to him.”

They brushed noses, every bit as shyly as Brackenfur had the day he was apprenticed to Sandstorm, but their purrs were audible from where Emberdawn sat. She smiled, happy for her friend.

Finally, Yellowfang stood from where she sat beside Bluestar. “I wish to mentor young Moonkit.”

There was a happy murmur rising from the Clan, and Bluestar gave a rare smile. “Very well. Moonkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and you are ready to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your full name, you will be known as Moonpaw. Your mentor will be Yellowfang, and you will go to the Moonstone on the half-moon to be fully apprenticed.”

Moonpaw grinned widely, and Yellowfang jumped down to touch noses with her. 

Emberdawn gave her mate a last lick before she went to the foot of Highrock, and many eyes turned to her.

“I will ask the queens to have someone set up Sweetheart’s nest in the warrior’s den-- thank you, Silverstream,” she nodded when the silver queen raised her tail to volunteer. “Whitestorm, take Brightpaw and two other cats for sunset patrol.”

Whitestorm nodded, beckoning over Mousefur and Thornpaw, and they exited the camp on silent paws.

“Cinderheart, take Longtail and Swiftpaw out towards the Owltree and Snakerocks for hunting. Brackenfur, you can take Snowpaw, Darkstripe, and Fernpaw to Tallpines for the same. I’ll lead a hunting patrol to Sunningrocks-- I’ll take Sandstorm and Sweetheart.”

The prompted cats split off into groups, and Emberdawn sighed in relief when her littermate and best friend stepped closer, chatting aimlessly as the three mollies began their trek out of the camp.

“This is so stressful,” she meowed. “Some days I can barely remember who has an apprentice!”

“You’re doing great,” Sandstorm reassured her with a friendly nudge. “Besides, since you’re so busy organizing patrols, I’m the best hunter again!”

“You are  _ not _ !”

“Really? Then, the first one to catch something is the best hunter in ThunderClan!” With that, Sandstorm rocketed into the underbrush, followed by Emberdawn’s thrown curses. 

When she returned to camp, Bluestar was waiting for her just outside the leader’s den, her face a mask of anger.

She swallowed her fear, and padded up to her leader. 

Wordlessly, Bluestar led her into the den.

“Where were you?”

“Out hunting with Sandstorm and Sweetheart.”

“Cinderheart?”

“Leading a patrol of Longtail and Swiftpaw.”

“Whitestorm?”

“Border patrol with Brightpaw, Dustpelt, and Ashpaw.”

“Ravenflight?”

“Hunting alone, we ran into him on the way back.”

“ _ Darkstripe _ ?”

“Hunting with Brackenfur, Snowpaw, and Fernpaw.”

“Mousefur?”

“Helping Runningwind and Sugarpaw with battle training.”

“Frostfur?”

“Hunting with Brindleface and Cloudpaw near Fourtrees.”

“Was not a  _ single _ warrior left in camp?”

_ Oh, no _ . Emberdawn swallowed thickly. “No, Bluestar.” She couldn’t meet her leader’s eyes, terrified she wouldn’t recognize whoever lurked in them.

“From now on, I want three warriors in camp at all times-- we have been attacked in our own camp  _ how many times _ ?”

“Since I joined… four.”

“And that is  _ inexcusable. _ You are my deputy, and I will not accept such disregard for the safety of our Clan!”

“I’m sorry, Bluestar,” she whimpered.

“Hey, Emberdawn, have you--” Yellowfang’s voice died as she padded in, seeing her deputy cowering away from Bluestar. Her amber eyes narrowed. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m just telling our  _ loyal _ deputy that we should not leave the camp unguarded.” Bluestar’s voice was cold, and Emberdawn stared at her paws, her fur prickling in fear and shame.

“Fine, then. I was going to ask if she’d seen where I put my moss, I left it out to dry and now it’s gone.”

“Ask the nursery queens, the kits might have gotten ahold of it.”

“That I will,” Yellowfang huffed, and Emberdawn sent one last, wary glance at her leader before slipping out of the den, head low.

Bluestr stopped her, abrupt. 

“We are going to Highstones.”

“To visit the Moonstone?” Emberdawn’s pelt itched as she watched Bluestar pace, her eyes flashing with danger. “Is that… a good idea?”

“Of course it is! We need StarClan’s guidance, now more than ever!”

Moonpaw set down a bundle of herbs in front of each of them, looking to Yellowfang for approval. When her mentor nodded, the medicine cat apprentice mewed, “These herbs should keep your strength up… stay safe.”

“We will,” she promised, swallowing down the herbs. She glanced at Bluestar again before exiting the den, and stopped Whitestorm as he passed. “Bluestar and I are headed to the Moonstone, can you keep the Clan in order while we’re gone?”

He blinked his luminous yellow eyes before dipping his head. “Of course. Safe travels.”

Bluestar was already climbing the gorge when Emberdawn caught up to her on hurried paws, and they passed through their territory in silence. 

On RiverClan territory, she watched a patrol trying to catch a rabbit with disdain, muttering something about how incompetent Leopardfur was, and kept moving… until Leopardfur spotted them and ran over, teeth bared.

“Intruders!”

Emberdawn glared at the deputy, wanting to hiss. “We’re just passing through--”

“You have no right to stop a Clan leader on their way to Highstones!” Bluestar hissed, and Leopardfur growled back. 

“You lost that right when you stole Silverstream!”

Her pelt flushed hotly with anger. “You murdered Graystripe in cold blood, fish-breath!” Blackclaw rumbled threateningly, stalking forwards, and Emberdawn hissed. “Bluestar, they’re unreasonable. We should head back to camp, and let StarClan deal with their insolence.”

“I must speak with StarClan!”

“Another time,” she meowed desperately. “This isn’t a battle we must fight.”

Finally, Bluestar growled and turned away, and Emberdawn followed, shooting a worried look over her shoulder at the hostile RiverClan patrol.

As they passed back into camp, Bluestar moaned lowly.

“What’s wrong?”

“StarClan is angry with us-- they refuse to share dreams with me.”

“RiverClan stood in our way-- not StarClan.” Despite her words, Emberdawn’s chest tightened.

Would StarClan really be angry with them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon Rising Storm: Cloudpaw Sucks, The Novel  
> Me: I don’t have the patience for this
> 
> Okay, side note: for those of you that want to nitpick the timeline, it was already fucked over. In canon, Cloudpaw was roughly Fernpaw and Ashpaw’s age, but in this rewrite, he’s a moon and a half older than Bramblekit and Tawnykit.   
> As of right now, Emberdawn has been deputy for about four moons-ish, which canon kinda fucked over because it leapt straight from the beginning of newleaf to mid-greenleaf and said that it was Only Days After Tigerclaw’s Exile. Bullshit, and I’m not gonna try and write how four moons later Emberdawn is still utterly incompetent in assigning patrols. She’s not.  
> And again, canon Rising Storm was literally just Cloudpaw being awful for an entire book. I was a kid when I read it and it endlessly frustrated me because it was more of a filler book than anything... plus how Fireheart spends a RIDICULOUS amount of time being afraid of a kitten for having the same fur patterns as his father. I hated how toxic Fireheart was to Bramblekit and when they were mentor and apprentice, and since Emberdawn isn’t a massive idiot, she decides that she can’t mentor Bramblekit.


	25. Rising Storm: II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ravenflight worries. Cloudpaw is MIA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had,,, such a hard time writing this, I am sorry

Ravenflight was worried for his mate.

The violet-eyed tom saw how she struggled in these past moons, how her eyes were dulled with exhaustion and dread. He knew that she was hurting, but he had no idea how to  _ help _ .

He could only watch as Emberdawn was driving herself into the ground. So he did what he always did when they were stressed. 

“Let’s go hunting,” he suggested gently, swiping a tail over her back. Emberdawn blinked at him, tiredness lingering in her fire-bright gaze. 

“But I have to organize sunset patrol…”

Was  _ this _ what being a deputy was? It tore at Ravenflight’s heart to hear the resignation in her voice, the way her tail drooped and shoulders sagged and she barely put weight on her bad leg. 

“I can do it.” StarClan bless Sandstorm-- the pale ginger molly had padded up just in time to hear the exchange, and she was giving the pair a sympathetic look. “I can go with Brindleface and Cloudpaw; you go and relax for a bit.”

“I… I guess.” Emberdawn smiled weakly at her friend and began padding to the bramble tunnel, Ravenflight just behind her.

As they emerged into the forest, the gorge raising high before them, Ravenflight smiled gently. “Let’s head to Tallpines. You said you liked that place.”

“The Treecutplace will be scaring off all the prey this time of year,” she disagreed, and Ravenflight purred.

“Yeah, but you just need to get away from the Clan for a bit. Besides, the Treecutplace won’t be active at this time of day.”

Emberdawn rumbled a tired assent, and they scaled the gorge-- the two were undersized, and it took twice as long as it would for anyone else, but they still climbed up. 

By the time they made it to Tallpines, Emberdawn was limping and the moon was rising. Almost full… there would be a Gathering soon.

“Hold on, love.” Ravenflight panted exaggeratedly, knowing she would never stop for herself. “I’ve gotta catch my breath… must have eaten too many mice!”

“Who are you, Graystripe?” She smiled weakly, but stopped anyway. As Ravenflight settled onto the still-warm earth, and huffed and lay beside him. 

Gently, he licked her ear. “What’s wrong, Spitfire?”

He could see her melting a little at the nickname, and answered after a few beats of silence. “Ever since she hit her head… she hasn’t been the same. And some of the elders are saying that it was a sign from StarClan I was never supposed to be a deputy. Bluestar holes herself up in her den, and she keeps mistaking me and Yellowfang for cats she knew… from her past. And when she’s not stuck in whatever time she was thinking about, she’s paranoid. I have to have at least three warriors guarding the camp at all times, and she’s insisting on the fact that everyone in the Clan is a traitor besides me. And… she’s on her last life, Ravenflight. I’m too young to be a leader.”

His heart panged in sympathy, and he drew closer to his mate, gently wrapping his tail around her. “You’re not alone. Me, Sandstorm, Dustpelt, Sweetheart, Silverstream, Brindleface… we’re all your friends. You’re our kin, no matter where you were born.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Tears sparkled in Emberdawn’s flaming amber eyes, and Ravenflight gently pressed his nose to hers.

“And if you can’t, we’ll still be there for you. You didn’t deserve to be put in this position, you don’t deserve to have so much on your shoulders, but that’s how it is. If you want to step down, I won’t judge you.”

There was a long silence before the black molly curled closer to Ravenflight, tucking her head under his chin. 

If they fell asleep there… that was no one’s business but their own.

Emberdawn strode into camp with a chaffinch in her jaws, Ravenflight dragging a squirrel not far behind. She lifted her tail in greeting, and Sandstorm padded over, her fur slightly bristling. Brindleface was close behind, her gray tabby face tight with worry.

“I know you were at Tallpines. Did you see Cloudpaw when you were there?”

Dropping the chaffinch into the fresh-kill pile, Emberdawn licked her muzzle thoughtfully. “We didn’t, sorry. Is something wrong?”

“I sent him to hunt near the Twolegplace yesterday morning,” Brindleface looked at the deputy pleadingly as she continued with, “and he hasn’t come back.”

“What?” Her tail flicked anxiously, and she looked over at Ravenflight. His violet eyes were wide with worry, and she took a deep breath, dragging up every ancient memory of Twolegplace she could. “When I went to get catmint from Twolegplace, there were two kittypets living in dens by the edge of the forest. They might have seen him.”  _ It’s hard to miss that white coat. _

Sandstorm curled her lip in disgust. “You want to ask  _ kittypets _ about  _ Clan _ matters? As in, those dung-eating rabbit-hearts?”

There was a beat as hurt stung Emberdawn’s heart, and, quite unexpectedly, she heard a hiss from behind her.

“Hey! She’s your  _ deputy _ , Sandstorm! We’re all friends, but at the end of the day she calls the shots, and I remember that she suggested we ask them if they’d seen Cloudpaw, not if they want to let us into their dens and eat their slop!”

All three mollies looked at Ravenflight in shock. He was bristled past realism, violet eyes flashing with aggression, teeth drawn back in a snarl.

Emberdawn’s heart fluttered, and she gently pressed her nose to her mate’s ear. “Thank you, love.”

Brindleface nodded, and nudged Sandstorm, who had the decency to look ashamed of herself. “Come on… I’m worried for Cloudpaw. He always finds a way to get into all sorts of trouble, almost ate deathberries if it weren’t for Moonpaw having been nearby. She screeched his ears off, and she’s normally so  _ quiet _ …”

In the corner of her eye, Emberdawn saw Mistlekit and Snowkit playing. Mistlekit, a tabby she-kit, had pounced on him, and was twitching her ears in strange patterns to her pure-white brother. Snowkit scrunched his face in return.

Cloudpaw had often run over to play with them, and she recalled that sometimes he made similar gestures with his ears or tail. It seemed odd, now that she thought about it… but Cloudpaw was clearly like a big brother to the two kits.

She shook away her thoughts. “Whitestorm!”

The big tom looked up from where he was laying with Willowpelt. “Hm?”

“Watch the camp, and--” she checked the fresh-kill pile-- “send out some hunting patrols. Cloudpaw is missing.”

“Cloudpaw is missing?”

Bluestar’s voice broke into Emberdawn’s thoughts, and she looked to her leader. “Yes, we are going to look for him.”

“Don’t bother, he’s just a traitor.” Her demeanor was threatening, and she pulled back her lips in a snarl. “Just like the rest of the Clan!”

Yellowfang hurried over, guiding the Clan leader back to her den, and Emberdawn sighed to herself. “We should just go.”

By sunhigh, Emberdawn leapt up onto the fence separating the Twoleg dens from the forest, and glared into the garden. In it, a pair of familiar-looking kittypets were sunbathing. 

“Hey!” Sandstorm barked, and they both shot upwards. 

“Wha-- oh, it’s the feral cat!” The black-and-white tom relaxed after a beat. “How did that catnip work for you?”

“Just fine, thanks.” Trying to be civil, Emberdawn shot a glare at her Clanmates, reminding them to follow her example. “I am Emberdawn, the deputy of ThunderClan. This is my mate, Ravenflight, and my friends, Brindleface and Sandstorm.”

“You’ve got funny names,” the brown tabby molly purred. “I’m Hattie, and this is Smudge!” Emberdawn blinked, recognizing her as the she-kit she had scared. She looked to be a young warrior now.  _ Like how Swiftpaw and Brightpaw and Thornpaw should be… _

Shaking away those thoughts, she dipped her head.  _ Smudge… I’ve heard that somewhere before, haven’t I? _ “One of our Clanmates, a white tom named Cloudpaw, went missing yesterday. He was hunting near here, have you seen him?”

“Cloudpaw…” Smudge blinked slowly, then recognition lit his gaze. “Really fluffy, a bit younger than Hattie and bright green eyes?”

“Yes,” she agreed readily.

“A pair of housefolk took him in, we can bring you to him… I don’t really get the whole ‘feral’ thing that you cats seem to enjoy, but no cat deserves to be away from home for long.”

Smudge stood, stretching dramatically, and with a flick of his tail, the patrol of Clan cats followed him over the fence and into the alleys of Twolegplace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter, we’ll be getting more familiar with Hattie and Smudge as well as other Twolegplace cats... not just kittypets, either.


	26. Rising Storm: III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twolegplace is a lot more dangerous than it seems. Emberdawn has a lot of power, but she doesn’t like it all that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is the last part of Rising Storm, enjoy.

The alleys were dank and dark and cold, despite the greenleaf day. Emberdawn shivered, feeling ghostly eyes on her pelt as the band of Clan cats and kittypets walked through Twolegplace.

“This is the house.” Smudge blinked up at a Twoleg nest, looking just as run-down as the rest of its surroundings. “I know the cat next door. Her name’s Violet, says her brother lives on the moor.”

“A WindClan cat?”

He wrinkled his nose. “No, something about a barn.”

_ Barley _ . Ravenflight glanced over at Emberdawn, seeming to be checking if she, too, had understood his reference. “Thank you, Smudge,” he mewed.

“No problem, ferals!” the kittypet chirped in return, before shooting a wary glance around. “I’m gonna head back to my nest, yeah? Bye…”

“I’ll stick with you, though,” Hattie chirped, a wide grin plastered on her face. “It’d be bad news for the likes of you ferals if Scourge and his merry band of murderers caught scent of you without an escort.”

Storing the name for later, Emberdawn nodded, and Hattie leapt up to the decaying fence beside the nest she had pointed out. 

“Hey, V!”

One grumpy huff later, a ginger tabby molly was scrambling onto the fence with Hattie. “What?”

“I got some ferals here, they’re looking for that Cloud tom!”

“Cloudpaw?” The molly, presumedly Violet, frowned. “He busted out early this morning… I think one of the alley rogues got him. He ignored me when I tried to warn him.”

Brindleface bristled beside Emberdawn, spitting out, “That StarClan-accursed apprentice! I’ll tear his ears off and get Yellowfang to stick them back on so I can do it again!”

“He’s an idiot, but he’s not so fur-brained that he’d jump into battle with the first hostile cat he sees. Cloudpaw’s probably fine,” Sandstorm tried to reassure the distraught mentor to no avail, because the gray tabby just hissed. 

Violet, looking mildly perturbed, glanced over at the Clan cats, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, there are ferals here.”

“They’re Cloudpaw’s family,” Hattie puts in with a wide grin.

Reproachfully, the kittypet mews to Emberdawn, “You’re looking for your brother, then?”

“Nephew, actually. I’m his mother’s litter-sister.”

She blinked a few times, then shrugged. “I’d help, but I’m old enough to know the difference between helping the lot of you find your friend and charging into certain death, which is pretty much an accurate description of going into Scourge’s territory without warning.”

Scourge. That name again-- the king of the Twolegplace, if she was understanding the situation. Anxiously, she waved her tail, trying to focus on Violet’s face. “We are all trained for combat, and if we are attacked, we will protect you and Hattie. The innocent and helpless come first in the Clans.”

“ _ Obviously _ .” Hattie rolls her eyes, jumping down to stand beside the undersized warriors. “It’s like that here, too. Even Scourge has a  _ heart _ . Old cats are protected as long as they are loyal, kits are protected at all costs. Your Clans aren’t the only ones with morals.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, looking away. Violet huffed in amusement, and jumped down.

“Alright, ferals. I can get you in the door, but from there you’re on your own. Word on the street is that he hates the lot of you, but if he kills me, I’ll haunt your sorry tails.”

“Haunt?” Sandstorm glanced questioningly at Violet, but Emberdawn slapped her tail into her mouth, not quite recalling the reference but feeling unsettled by it.

The little tabby didn’t seem to get the message, though. “Yeah, when we die, our ghosts wander around and stuff. Six-toed cats can see them, but they’re really rare. Doesn’t that happen to you?”

Brindleface shook her head, looking uneasy. “No, our spirits go to StarClan, where they hunt and live in peace and watch over the living.”

“Oh, that’s cool!”

Violet rolled her eyes at Hattie, then beckoned the Clan cats with a flick of her tail and leapt down, leading them into the alleys.

A pair of ice-blue eyes stared at them from the shadows above the carrion-box. “Violet. Who have you brought to me?”

Violet dipped her head respectfully, but her fear-scent soured the air, powerful and overwhelming enough to make Emberdawn gag. Sandstorm, ever the brave one, took a step forward, lifting her leaf-green eyes to meet those that belonged to who could only be Scourge. “I am Sandstorm, and we are looking for--”

“I don’t care.” His cold voice shattered her sentence, and they flicked away from her in abject disinterest, instead settling on Brindleface. “You.”

“My apprentice--”

“Does anyone have anything  _ interesting _ to say?” Scourge’s sneer made a flame of pure fury spark in Emberdawn’s chest, and she really couldn’t be blamed for what she said next. She was tired, her shoulder was sore, the sun was setting and  _ Cloudpaw was still missing _ . “You’re a real motherfucker, aren’t you?”

All eyes snapped to her, and the fear-scent bathed her tongue, but she clamped her jaws shut and stared defiantly up at those frost-filled eyes. The promise of death and pain pressed on her shoulders, threatening suffocation, and all at once, it vanished as a high, reedy laugh broke the tension in two.

A tom every bit as small as her-- about the size of a four-moon-old kit, if Emberdawn was feeling particularly honest-- leapt down, those ice-blue eyes glittering with amusement. His fur was pitch-black, and a single white paw was stained slightly pink. His throat was protected by a purple collar studded with the teeth of dogs and cats, making her stomach lurch with disgust. He padded forwards, claws scraping the pavement as he went, and she glanced at his paws, only to feel a mix of revulsion and fascination as she saw what could only be fox fangs attached to the end of each claw, making them sharper and even more deadly. 

_ Clack, click, clack _ went the fang-claws as Scourge came nose-to-nose with Emberdawn, but she did not back away.  _ I’ve gone toe to toe with Tigerclaw. I can beat him any day… hopefully. _

“You. I like you.”

“And why’s that?” she shot back before she could stop herself, and his sick grin grew ever wider. 

“You don’t look like much… but you’ve got a sharp tongue, and I can tell you have claws to match it. If you weren’t reeking of the forest, I’d invite you to be one of my lieutenants.”

“So, I’ve achieved your good side for being like you?” She bit her tongue, and watched him warily. This only served to amuse him further. 

“Yes, in a way… speak your mind, stranger.”

After a moment, she dipped her head, knowing this was the time to show respect. “I am Emberdawn, and me and my Clanmates are here searching for one of our apprentices, a young tom by the name of Cloudpaw. He went missing yesterday morning, and last we heard he was heading in this direction.”

Scourge looked at her, less like she was a particularly fun bit of prey and more like a riddle he couldn’t figure out. “I would happen to know where he is, yes. But it would come at a cost.”

“Information for information, then.” Her voice was steadier than she actually felt, but she squared her shoulders. 

His eyes lit with a hate-filled fire, but distant, as if he were recalling something. “I want to know the whereabouts of Tigerpaw.”

Tigerpaw? She glanced at Sandstorm, and it dawned on her; Tigerclaw. “He is a murderer and a traitor to ThunderClan. He was driven out, likely wandering on the edges of Twolegplace or near ShadowClan territory, in the marshes. His most defining scar is one across the bridge of his nose.”

Scourge closed his eyes, and terrible glee danced in them when he opened them again. “Bone.” One of the cats hovering along Emberdawn’s peripherals nodded, slinking into the shadows. “One last… question. If you were to find a kittypet kitten wandering in your territory, what would you do? What would your  _ code _ demand?”

“A kit?” She blinked, baffled. “We take it to our camp, obviously. It’s among our most important laws that we must treat every kit like they are our own, no matter what Clan or otherwise they were born in. I was born a kittypet, and me and my litter-sister joined ThunderClan some seasons ago. I personally would have taken them to my sister or any other queen, and try to find their parents.”

Hate was replaced by confusion. “Your  _ laws _ prevent a Clan cat attacking a kit? Even if it’s invading your territory?”

Immediately, she laughed. “What are they gonna do, drive us out? Are they bringing a patrol of kittens along with them? Attacking a kit, or even apprenticing them before six moons, is strictly forbidden-- a cat named Brokentail murdered kits, and I ripped a life out of him myself.”

“I am satisfied.” Scourge’s words were sudden, but Emberdawn decided not to press, suddenly wary of his stony expression. He was pretty neurotic, from what she could tell. “Brick, pull him out.”

“Yes, Scourge.” Another tom turned around, vanishing into a split in a fence, then emerging with a lump of white fur that was protesting the entire way.

“Cloudpaw!” Brindleface cried out, shooting forwards to half-rip him from Brick’s jaws and immediately start lecturing him through a mouthful of her apprentice’s fur.

Emberdawn laughed, and things slid back into place.

“Cloudpaw was kidnapped by the Twolegs.”

Bluestar looked at her. “Okay.”

“He’s back now. We arrived last night.”

“Why would he come back? This is nothing but a dying Clan full of traitors and liars.” Her leader’s eyes were flinty, and she looked over the Clan, which were just  _ barely _ far enough away to not hear their exchange. “You bring them to the Gathering. I don’t care.”

The full moon glowed overhead, and Emberdawn glanced nervously around at her Clanmates. Bluestar was perched beside her on the Highrock, looking paranoid. 

“Are you sure, Bluestar?” she asked anxiously. “The other Clans will think you’re too weak to come if I bring ThunderClan to the Gathering alone.”

“And?” Her blue eyes focused on Emberdawn, a sneer etched into her face. “Let them come. I will fight them alone if I must.”

“Of course.” She flattened her ears, looking away as Bluestar leapt down, walking into her den. After a moment, she cleared her throat. “I want all queens and kits to stay in camp, as you usually would. Are there any elders that wish to stay?”

One-eye, Dappletail, and Patchpelt all lifted their tails, and split off from the main group to sit with the queens. Dappletail nosed Speckletail’s face, as if checking for stress, and Goldenflower and Silverstream greeted the other two warmly. Their kits tumbled about their paws, and Patchpelt tripped over a wayward Mistlekit, who huffed in annoyance up at him before burrowing into her mother’s side. 

“Yellowfang, what do you say?”

“I’ll stay here,” she announced. Moonpaw, who had been lurking by her side, looked at her mentor as if she’d gone mad. “This brat needs to learn how to deal with the other medicine cats without me.”

“Any other volunteers to stay?”

Whitestorm, Runningwind, Mousefur, Brindleface, and Cloudpaw all split away from the cats, Yellowfang padding alongside them with a proud tilt to her chin. Cloudpaw was still exhausted from his impromptu venture to Twolegplace, and Brindleface naturally wanted to keep a close eye on him. 

She closed her eyes, deep in thought.

“I will take Brightpaw, Swiftpaw, Thornpaw, Sugarpaw, Fernpaw, and Moonpaw for the apprentices. For warriors, I will take Cinderheart, Frostfur, Ravenflight, Dustpelt, Brackenfur, Longtail, and… Darkstripe.” 

On a silent command, the chosen cats stood and they walked out of the camp. Emberdawn flattened her ears, feeling the judgemental stare of Darkstripe on her pelt and knowing how much he hated her, but she was determined to be fair despite her personal feelings about cats. He was awful to her, but he was a decent warrior. 

“Hey, Ember.” Cinderheart jogged up beside her, bumping her cheek affectionately with her nose. “What’s up with Bluestar?” Thankfully, her former apprentice had picked up on the meaning of subtlety, and had dropped her voice.

“She’s…” The black huntress hesitated, then, deciding if no-one else her  _ apprentice _ was trustworthy, she muttered back, “She hasn’t been quite  _ there _ since she hit her head. I’ve… I’ve had to take over a lot of her duties, and I guess this is just the most recent.”

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to deal with that.” Cinderheart’s eyes shone with understanding, but not pity. Both she-cats hated pity, and they refused to feel pity for each other. “She hasn’t made Brightpaw or Swiftpaw or Thornpaw warriors yet, even though Brightpaw and Thornpaw are my littermates and Swiftpaw is almost a moon older than me! I just don’t understand.”

Her heart twisted with guilt, and after a moment, she dropped back to walk with the three too-old apprentices.

“I’m sorry,” she meowed, feeling her lead-heavy paws drag beneath her. “I know you all deserve warrior names, but Bluestar just… refuses whenever I bring it up.”

The three looked at her in surprise, but Brightpaw was the first to recover. She smiled weakly, and brushed her tail gently over Emberdawn’s shoulders. “I heard, once. I heard you arguing with her about it and I could tell how upset you were. It’s not your fault. Even if Bluestar never makes is warriors, I know that when you’re leader, you will!”

_ When I’m leader _ . The crushing words didn’t seem so crushing when Brightpaw spoke them, and she allowed herself just a moment to consider it. Just a moment, to think about all she would do if she was leader. Obviously, these three would get their warrior names right off the bat. Silverstream would be officially made a ThunderClan warrior. She’d have a deputy to help her, maybe a cat like Sandstorm, and she would never have to be afraid that a cat would die without a proper ceremony. She’d visit the nursery every bit as often as Bluestar used to, and get to know every cat in ThunderClan.

And the moment she pulled herself out of her thoughts and climbed up to the Great Rock, meowing a hello to Tallstar and brushing off her presence with a simple ‘Bluestar wanted to stay in camp, since there are so many young kits’, the moment she stopped allowing herself to imagine being leader, she looked to her left and froze, amber meeting amber. 

Tigerclaw sat on the Great Rock, smelling of ShadowClan and vaguely of starlight, exuding power that only cats with nine lives could hope to carry on their shoulders. 

Tigerstar, leader of ShadowClan, sat beside her, with a look in his eyes that meant he’s won. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, guys, I really like comments because they put me in a good mood and I’m trapped in a house with some of my least favorite people right now.


	27. A Dangerous Path: Allegiances

**THUNDERCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Bluestar - Blue-gray molly, tinged with silver around her muzzle.

_ DEPUTY _

Emberdawn - tiny black she-cat with amber eyes and a permanent limp in front-left leg

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Yellowfang - old dark gray she-cat with a broad, flat face APPRENTICE, MOONPAW

_ WARRIORS _ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Whitestorm - big white tom APPRENTICE, BRIGHTPAW

Darkstripe - sleek black-and-gray tabby tom APPRENTICE, FERNPAW

Longtail - pale tabby tom with dark black stripes APPRENTICE, SWIFTPAW

Runningwind - swift tabby tom 

Mousefur - small dusky brown she-cat APPRENTICE, THORNPAW

Dustpelt - dark brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, ASHPAW

Ravenflight - small, skinny black-furred tom with a tiny white dash on his chest and white-tipped tail and violet eyes

Sandstorm - pale ginger she-cat 

Frostfur - beautiful white molly with blue eyes

Brindleface - pretty tabby molly

Brackenfur - golden-brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Cinderheart - dark gray she-cat with clear blue eyes and a crippled hind leg

Sweetheart - light brown tabby she-cat with green eyes

_ APPRENTICES _ (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

Swiftpaw - black-and-white tom

Brightpaw - white she-cat with ginger patches

Thornpaw - golden-brown tabby tom with pale blue eyes

Ashpaw - pale gray tom with darker flecks and dark blue eyes

Fernpaw - pale gray molly with darker flecks and pale green eyes

Cloudpaw - pure white tom with green eyes 

Moonpaw - very dark gray molly with white flecks and green eyes 

Sugarpaw - light brown tabby molly with white chest/paws and green eyes

Snowpaw - pale tabby tom with white chest/paws and blue eyes

_QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Willowpelt - very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes

Silverstream - pretty slender silver tabby, formerly RiverClan

Goldenflower - pale ginger queen

Speckletail - pale tabby, the oldest queen

_ KITS _

Featherkit - silver tabby she-kit with blue eyes (Mother: Silverstream)

Stormkit - dark gray tomkit with amber eyes (Mother: Silverstream)

Bramblekit - dark brown tabby tomkit with amber eyes (Mother: Goldenflower)

Tawnykit - tawny-spotted she-kit with green eyes (Mother: Goldenflower)

Snowkit - pure white tomkit with blue eyes (Mother: Speckletail)

Mistlekit - dark tabby she-kit with yellow eyes (Mother: Speckletail)

_ ELDERS _ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Halftail - big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing

Smallear - gray tom with very small ears

Patchpelt - small black-and-white tom

One-eye - pale gray molly, the oldest cat in Thunderclan. Virtually blind and deaf

Dappletail - once-pretty tortoiseshell molly with a lovely dappled coat

**SHADOWCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Tigerstar - dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws

_ DEPUTY _

Blackfoot - large white tom with jet-black paws

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Fleetwhisker - small gray-and-white tom

_ WARRIORS _ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Stumpytail - brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, BROWNPAW

Littlecloud - very small tabby tom

Wetfoot - gray tabby tom 

Whitethroat - black tom with white chest and paws

Boulder - silver tabby tom

Russetfur - dark ginger she-cat

Oakfur - small brown tom

Jaggedtooth - huge tabby tom APPRENTICE, ROWANPAW

_QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Dawncloud - small tabby queen

Brightflower - black-and-white queen

Darkflower - black queen

Tallpoppy - long-legged light brown tabby queen

_ ELDERS _ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Ashfur - thin gray tom

**WINDCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Tallstar - black-and-white tom with a very long tail

_ DEPUTY _

Deadfoot - black tom with a dead paw

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Barkface - short-tailed brown tom

_ WARRIORS _ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Mudclaw - mottled dark brown tom 

Webfoot - dark gray tabby tom

Tornear - tabby tom

Onewhisker - young brown tabby tom 

Tawnyfur - golden-brown she-cat

Runningbrook - light gray tabby she-cat

_ QUEENS _ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Ashfoot - gray queen

Morningflower - tortoiseshell queen

Whitetail - small white she-cat

**RIVERCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Crookedstar - huge light-colored tabby with a twisted jaw

_ DEPUTY _

Leopardfur - unusually spotted black-and-golden tabby molly

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Mudfur - long-furred light brown tom

_ WARRIORS _ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Blackclaw - smoky black tom 

Heavystep - thickset tabby tom

Stonefur - gray tom with heavily scarred ears 

Shadepelt - very dark gray she-cat

Mistyfoot - blue-gray molly with blue eyes

Loudbelly - dark brown tom APPRENTICE, SEALPAW

_ QUEENS _

Mosspelt - tortoiseshell queen

_ ELDERS _

Graypool - dark gray she-cat

**CATS OUTSIDE CLANS**

_ KITTYPETS _

Smudge - plump and friendly black-and-white tom

Hattie - little brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes

Violet - ginger tabby she-cat with blue eyes and a white chest and paws

_ LONERS _

Barley - black-and-white tom who lives on a farm close to the forest

_ TWOLEGPLACE ROGUES _

Scourge - tiny black tom with one white sock and a tooth-studded collar

Bone - black-and-white tom with a tooth-studded collar

Brick - ginger tabby tom with a tooth-studded collar


	28. A Dangerous Path: Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to edit like a few words that detailed the “burned-out forest” because the fire hadn’t actually happened yet but that’s it

Inside the kennel-that-moves, everything was dark. The pack leader could hear the scrabbling of claws and feel the sleek pelt of the dog next to him, but he could see nothing. Dog scent filled his nostrils, and beyond that the smell of the forest.

The pack leader sat uncomfortably on the vibrating floor until the kennel-that-moves bounced to a halt.

Outside, he could hear Man voices. He understood some of the words. “Wild… keep watch… guard dogs.”

The pack leader picked up the Men’s fear-scent, along with the bittersweet smell of cut wood. He remembered coming here the night before, and the night before that, more than four paws’ worth of nights. He had prowled the compound with the rest of the pack, sifting through the scents for intruders, ready to drive them away.

The dog snarled softly, his lips drawn back from sharp teeth. The pack was strong. They could run, and kill. They craved warm blood, and the terror-scent of prey before it died. But instead they were penned up, they ate the food the Man threw to them, and they obeyed the Man’s orders.

The dog rose to his powerful paws, rattling the doors as he butted them with his massive black-and-tan head. He lifted his voice in a bark that sounded all the louder in the confined space. “Out! Pack out! Out now!”

The rest of the pack added their voices. “Pack out! Pack run!”

As if in answer, the doors of the kennel-that-moves were flung open. In the twilight the pack leader could see the Man standing there, barking an order.

The leader jumped down first, close to a pile of logs stacked in the middle of the compound. His paws threw up little puffs of ash and soot. The rest of the pack followed in a stream of black-and-brown bodies. “Pack follow! Pack follow!” they barked. The leader padded restlessly along the fence that separated them from the forest. Beyond the fence, powerful tree trunks leaned against each other or lay on the ground. Farther away a barrier of trees rustled in the breeze.

Scents flowed enticingly from the leaf-thick shadows. The dog’s muscles tensed. Out there, in the prey-filled forest, the pack could run free. There would be no Man to chain or command them. They would feed as often as they wanted, because they would be the strongest and most savage of all.

“Free!” the lead dog barked. “Pack free! Free soon!” 

He walked up to the fence and pressed his nose against the mesh links, drawing the smells of the forest deep into his lungs. Many of the scents he had never smelled before, but there was one he knew well, stronger than the rest, the scent of his enemy and his prey.

_ Cats! _

Night had fallen; the leafless branches of the blackened trees were silhouetted against a full moon. In the darkness the dogs ranged to and fro, deep shadows in the night. Paws padded softly among soot and sawdust. Muscles rippled under shining coats. Their eyes gleamed. Their jaws were parted, revealing sharp teeth, and their tongues lolled.

The pack leader sniffed along the bottom of the fence, searching for a special place on the opposite side of the compound from where the Man stayed at night. Three nights ago the dog had discovered a narrow hole leading under the fence. He knew at once that this would be the route to freedom for the pack.

“Hole. Where hole?” he growled.

Then he spotted the place where the earth floor of the compound fell away into a hollow. One massive paw scraped at the ground. The dog raised his head to bark to his followers. “Here. Hole, hole. Here.”

He could feel their eagerness in his own mind, sharp as thorns, hot as carrion. They came bounding up to the lead dog, answering his bark. “Hole. Hole.”

“Bigger, hole bigger,” the pack leader promised. “Run soon.”

He began scraping at the ground again with all the strength in his lean, powerful body. Earth scattered as the hole under the chain-link fence grew wider and deeper. The remaining dogs milled around, snuffling at the night air that carried scents from the forest. They drooled at the thought of sinking their teeth into the warm bodies of living prey. 

The pack leader stopped, ears pricked for the sound of the Man coming to check on them. But there was no sign of him, and his scent drifted from far away.

The lead dog flattened himself on the ground and squirmed down into the hole. The bottom of the fence scraped along his pelt. The dog thrust hard with his hind paws, propelling himself forward until he could scramble up and stand in the forest outside.

“Free now,” he barked. “Come! Come!”

The hole grew deeper still as each dog forced his way through, to stand beside his leader among the tall and regal trees. They padded back and forth, pushing their muzzles into the holes at the roots of said trees, gazing into the darkness with eyes that glowed with a cold fire.

As the last dog dragged itself under the fence, the pack leader raised his head and let out a triumphant bark. “Run. Pack free. Run now!”

Turning toward the trees, he bounded away, powerful muscles working in a smooth rhythm. The pack streamed behind, their dark shapes flashing through the forest night.

_ Pack, pack, _ they thought.  _ Pack run. _

The whole of the forest was theirs, and in their minds, there was a single instinct. “ _ Kill! Kill! _ ”


	29. A Dangerous Path: I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gathering is awful. Moonpaw is stressed. Also, fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I actually based Emberdawn’s design off of Scourge. They’re just tiny black runts. Firestar and Scourge had literally NO similarities, so I figured “why not make it more obvious that they’re canonically half-siblings?”  
> And yes, I absolutely headcanon them as murder twins. If Emberdawn hadn’t ended up going to ThunderClan she definitely would have ended up being Scourge’s right paw, no questions asked.

Emberdawn’s fur bristled with disbelief as she looked at the new leader of ShadowClan. This cat, this  _ traitor _ , who had tried to kill her and Bluestar and  _ Cinderheart _ , who had murdered Redtail and Lionheart, was sitting next to her with triumph in his eyes.

This cat was now one of the most powerful in the forest.

“Your Clan hasn’t arrived for some moons.” Tallstar’s voice pulled her out of the panic that threatened to drown her, and Emberdawn shoved all of her feelings down, locking them away tightly. She had dealt with Tigerclaw-star-whoever-he-is for moons before he was exiled. She can deal with one more night before she did damage control. “Your friends on the moors worried for you.”

_ He must have thought we were driven out, _ she thought guiltily, and tried to smile reassuringly at Tallstar. “ThunderClan is strong. We have been attacked many times when our camp was near empty, so Bluestar insisted we missed Gatherings to protect the queens and kits.”

“You are a wise leader, then, Emberstar, to decide the danger has passed.”

Shock threw itself down her spine, and she shook her head wildly. “Oh, StarClan, no. I’m not leader. Bluestar wanted to stay and watch over the camp, so she sent me to give the report. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, I am no leader--”

Tallstar laughed, his thin body shaking with mirth. “Oh, I know. I heard you say that to Crookedstar earlier, I just like to tease, so don’t mind me.”

She relaxed, and grinned back. “It’s good to see you in good health, Tallstar.”

After successfully pretending Tigerclaw-star didn’t exist, he stood and yowled for the Gathering to begin. She looked at him warily, stepping a bit closer to Tallstar and Crookedstar, who both shot her odd looks. 

Below her, she saw her Clan in states of disarray. Sandstorm was snarling openly, Ravenflight was huddled into Dustpelt’s side while they both seemed to shake in fear, and Darkstripe was looking up at Tigerclaw-star with something like excitement in his eyes.

_ What in StarClan’s name is happening here? _

“Thank you for coming here tonight,” he meowed. “Nightstar and Cinderfur were taken by the illness that has claimed so much from ShadowClan, and StarClan has named me the successor. I stand before you as Tigerstar.”

She bit back a hiss, and Tallstar nodded. “Welcome, Tigerstar. May StarClan walk with you.”

Crookedstar murmured agreement, and looked back over his Clan. With no more preamble, he glanced at Emberdawn. “Would you like to give your report?”

She nodded stiffly, and stood. Her paws shook, and she lifted her chin, looking over all four Clans and then up to the moon. She had planned this report with Yellowfang and Moonpaw, crafted it perfectly. She refused to allow Tigerstar’s presence deter her. 

_ StarClan give me strength, _ she prayed. 

A phantom muzzle brushed her cheek, and when she looked out the corner of her eye, Spottedleaf was there, her eyes shining with her mother-like love.

“Since the last time we arrived here, ThunderClan has faced great hardship. A queen from RiverClan came to us for sanctuary, and Crookedstar brought a patrol of warriors into our camp demanding her return. When she came out of our nursery to refuse, Leopardfur attacked me, but Graystripe, a warrior and close friend, intercepted the blow, and bled out not long after.

“Only days after that, Brokentail’s rogues attacked our camp. Brokentail was executed by our medicine cat, Yellowfang, in an attempt to drive away the rogues, and in the confusion, the traitor Tigerclaw attempted to kill me and Bluestar, nearly succeeding. He was exiled. Since then, we have been recuperating with myself as deputy and we are at full strength. Originally, we came here to issue a warning about Tigerclaw, warning all Clans of his treachery and bloodlust, but it seems we are too late.”

Nor far below, the Clans were absolutely silent. The too-few ShadowClan cats had eeys as wide as the moon, and Tallstar had stood, his eyes turned up to the moon, which was clear and shining down on them. Emberdawn spared a look at Tigerstar, who was staring at her in disbelief. 

_ He didn’t think I would tell! _ She thought victoriously, and licked her muzzle. Without anything else to say, she leapt down, and flicked her tail. Wordlessly, ThunderClan broke away, following in silence except for the hisses aimed in the ShadowClan cat’s directions. 

“There isn’t much we can do, is there?” she murmured to Sandstorm, shooting a significant look at her friend. “Everyone in ThunderClan and ShadowClan knew what an awful leader Brokentail was, yet nobody could do anything about it before he stole our kits. Tigerstar isn’t likely to make that mistake.”

“No, we can’t.” The pale-ginger she-cat’s fur was prickling with anger as she looked over her shoulder. “We can only wait for him to attack us directly, and then we can drive him out. ShadowClan cats can do even less, since it is against the warrior code to go against their leader.”

She heard branches breaking and rustling behind her. Turning, Emberdawn’s eyes widened as she saw a familiar tortoiseshell molly running forward. 

“Fernshade?” she asked, and the ShadowClan she-cat stopped beside her, panting heavily.

“Was what you said true?! About Tigerstar?!”

“Every word,” Ravenflight promised as he paused beside the group.

She panted for another second, her eyes wide, before she meowed, “ShadowClan is too sick to drive him out, and he brought back some of Brokentail’s followers. There was a sign from StarClan that he should be leader, but… ShadowClan is falling apart at the seams. Thank you for your help, Emberdawn, and may StarClan light your path… we may need your help again in the future.”

She vanished back into the undergrowth, and ThunderClan kept moving to their camp, whispers shared between friends but the scent of fear hanging heavy in the air.

Her paws dragged as she exited the leader’s den, her ear bleeding sluggishly. Bluestar… had not reacted well to the news, at the very least. A deep vee cut into her right ear, and she shook her head, sending scarlet drops flying.

“Are you okay?” The lithe shape of Moonpaw melted from the darkness, her green eyes shining with concern. She had one paw pressed to her chest, which made her walk a bit awkwardly, and in that paw was a bundle of herbs. “I heard Bluestar yowling… I couldn’t sleep.”

“Did Yellowfang send you?”

Emberdawn’s niece shook her head, and led her around the side of the medicine den. “Yellowfang could sleep through a forest fire. Besides, she doesn’t want me near Bluestar… she says its delicate.”

“She is,” Emberdawn agreed, pawing at her ear. Moonpaw  _ tsk _ ed harshly, batting her paw away and opening her leaf bundle.

“Eat these,” she meowed, rolling three poppy seeds over to her. “And stay still, for StarClan’s sake!”

“Okay,” she agreed softly, letting the apprentice shove her head down gently and start chewing the herbs, carefully applying them. “The half-moon is soon… Yellowfang said you’d be presented to StarClan then?”

“Yeah.” Moonpaw paused in her licking, glancing up at the full moon high overhead. “It feels like so much longer than a quarter-moon since I started my apprenticeship. I love it, just like I thought I would… Yellowfang says I’m picking things up first, but I almost ate foxglove for my insomnia instead of poppy seeds, which would have killed me, she says. But I can’t help but feel really worried that StarClan won’t accept me.”

“I’m sure they will,” she soothed with no measure of uncertainty. “You’ll be a wonderful medicine cat.”

“Thanks, Emberdawn.” The medicine cat apprentice smiled awkwardly, then mewed, “You should go get some sleep, I think. I’m not really sure what I’m doing yet, but borage pulp probably helped!”

She laughed, and padded back to the warrior’s den, feeling a bit lighter despite herself.

The scent of smoke reached her nose, and Emberdawn shot up, shaking away her exhaustion. She hadn’t been able to sleep for a moment, fear curdling her blood as dread settled in the pit of her belly. 

“Fire!” she screeched, leaping to her paws and ramming Ravenflight repeatedly. He jerked awake, bristling with wide eyes. “Fire! Everybody up! Fire!”

Around her, warriors were waking in states of confusion and panic. Whitestorm rose to his paws, head swiveling. 

“Whitestorm, wrangle the warriors!” she barked, hearing the crackle of flames. She didn’t know how close it was, but the cloying scent of smoke filled her nostrils and she coughed. “Ravenflight, apprentices! Sweetheart, with me to get the queens and kits!”

Her sister was at her side in moments. The two ran in sync, paws flying over the grass, and Emberdawn practically exploded into the nursery, seeing the orange tongues of death flickering just beyond. 

“ _ OUT! GET OUT, FIRE! _ ”

Shockingly, Snowkit was already up, rounding up the kits. He turned to look at Emberdawn, his blue eyes wide with terror. “‘Ire!” he mewled.

Speckletail was up as well, rousing the other two queens who had jolted awake to Emberdawn’s yowls. She glanced at Sweetheart and nodded, trusting her to evacuate the nursery safely. 

She ran out just in time to see the elder’s den go up in flames. 

The sounds of pained screams filled her ears. Her paws felt rooted to the spot, her body frozen. Dappletail scrambled out, her once-beautiful pelt scorched, with Smallear right behind her.

“To Sunningrocks!” She yowled at last. “Get to Sunningrocks!”

Yellowfang exploded past her, diving into the elder’s den. “Watch it, kitty!”

“Yellowfang, no!” Moonpaw streaked past Emberdawn, but she caught her scruff, pulling her back. “Yellowfang! It’s too dangerous!”

“Stay here!” she ordered swiftly, dropping her niece and following Yellowfang into the burning elder’s den. She immediately began to wheeze, smoke making her eyes tear up, but she saw Yellowfang dragging One-eye out by the scruff and losing the battle of speed. She shot towards the old mollies, helping her medicine cat haul the elder out. 

“Get Moonpaw and run to Sunningrocks!”

“Halftail and Patchpelt are still in there!” Yellowfang spat, and before Emberdawn could even hope to stop the grizzled molly, she leapt back into the flames. 

For a terrifying heartbeat, there was nothing.

And then, with the horrible splintering of wood and the crackle of fire, the elder’s den collapsed. A screech of pain rose from the ruins, and was almost immediately silenced. 

“ _ YELLOWFANG _ !” 

Emberdawn hooked her paws around Moonpaw, yanking her back with tears burning in her eyes. 

“ _ LET ME GO! YELLOWFANG! _ ”

“She’s gone! We have to get everyone to Sunningrocks!”

“ _ That’s my mentor! _ ”

“I’m your deputy!” Through the haze of shock and wretched grief, Emberdawn forced the apprentice to keep moving, seeing Bluestar limping into the smouldering tunnel. “And that’s an order! Get out of here!”

Moonpaw’s eyes were glistening, and she curled her lips back. “I hate you! I hate you so much!” With that, she turned tail and ran out. 

Emberdawn closed her eyes, forcing the image of her distraught niece from her mind, and rounded the camp once more.

“Mama! Mama!”

The tiny voice of a kit reached her ears, and Emberdawn spun, searching, until she spotted the kit. Or, kits, plural. 

Tawnykit and Bramblekit were bundled against each other, trapped in the nursery as flames swallowed the entrance. Tawnykit was the one calling out, her pink mouth opening again just to wheeze out a cough. 

“I’m coming!” she called out, and backed up a few paces, eyeing the hungry flames. She took a deep breath, and looked up the the dawn-lighted sky, and barreled forwards.

Time seemed to slow as she drew closer. The heat scorched her face, and she jumped, feeling her belly fur back fire as she brushed over the top. Panicking, she dropped to her belly and rubbed it in the dirt, putting out the flames, and turned to the kits.

“Tawnykit, on my back! Bramblekit, come here!”

She scooped up the tom, letting Tawnykit climb onto her shoulders, and eyes the entrance, which had been consumed by the fire. Smoke was filling her nose and mouth, and she could hardly see through the tears.

“Move your flea-bitten tail, kitty!” 

A scorched gray cat  _ threw _ herself onto the fire, forcing it to die down, and Emberdawn leapt over, tears streaming down her face as Yellowfang stood shakily, stumbling after her. Her fur was blanketed in soot and some of it was burned away, yet she snatched Bramblekit from her jaws and the two mollies ran out of the tunnel, their goal being Sunningrocks.

Yellowfang almost collapsed several times, and Emberdawn had to support her entirely about halfway through, the four cats desperate to rejoin their Clan.

They emerged from the treeline, and the sound of the river had never been so welcoming. 

“My kits!” Goldenflower shot forward, herding her kits to her belly and immediately bathing them, ignoring the soot that was definitely going to leave an awful aftertaste for days. “My babies, where did you go?!”

“I was at the dirtplace,” Bramblekit sobbed, curling closer to his mother. “Tawnykit came to get me and we went to the nursery cuz we thought you were there, and Emberdawn and Yellowfang saved us!”

Moonpaw ran forwards, barely more than a dark blur as she appeared at her mentor’s side. “Yellowfang! Yellowfang, come on, we have burns to treat!”

Yellowfang wheezed, and tried to scramble to her paws before collapsing again. With a wheezing purr, she shook her head. “This is my last hurrah, I think is how those loners say it. StarClan guided me from that flaming den to help these poor kits, I think, but I--” she broke off, wheezing and coughing horribly. With a retch, blood spattered the wilting grass, dripping from her jaws. “Kitty?”

“Yes, Yellowfang?” Emberdawn pressed close to the medicine cat, seeing the Clan recognize what was happening and begin to gather. 

“You-- you make sure the brat becomes the best damn medicine cat since Moth Flight, got that?”

“I will.” Tears clouded her vision, and Yellowfang extended her head towards Moonpaw.

“Brat. You keep a good head on your shoulders and you’ll do just fine. I’ll make sure that StarClan welcomes you at the Moonstone, alright? And you listen to Emberdawn. She’s learned a bit from Spottedleaf-- she was before your time… you listen good, alright?”

“I will, Yellowfang! I promise! Just… just please don’t leave me.”

By sunset, the fire had died down, and so had a few unfortunate cats. 

Yellowfang and One-eye died of smoke inhalation. Patchpelt and Halftail had died in the burning elder’s den. 

Four bodies-- two charred nearly beyond recognition-- were at the bottom of a grave the entire Clan had helped to dig, assisting the only two elders left. Dappletail and Smallear stood by the side, their eyes dull with grief, and Emberdawn stood frozen, Moonpaw pressed into her side. 

“I’m sorry I said I hated you,” she mewled in a small voice. “You’re my auntie… I was just really mad.”

“It’s okay,” she meowed thickly. “Even if you did hate me, I’d always love you.” She curled a tail around ThunderClan’s sole medicine cat, and let herself cry in silence, looking down at the body of her friend, curled so that she could almost be sleeping. 

_ “Yellowfang could sleep through a forest fire.” _

She turned her face to the sky, walking away her sorrow.

_ Oh, StarClan, why do you take everyone I love? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just kind of love the concept of a medicine cat dying and leaving behind a brand-new apprentice. Emberdawn knows a little bit of medicine, but don’t worry, poor Moonpaw will get a real mentor soon.
> 
> Please comment! <33


	30. A Dangerous Path: II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath. The hawk.

She woke up at sunset. 

The forest had, at last, stopped smouldering. Moonpaw stirred beside her, and she nudged the medicine cat apprentice awake. “Hey, time for a new day, alright?”

She sat up, eyes wild and glossy. Emberdawn jumped back, her own eyes widening, and Moonpaw began to speak in an odd growl, yet she could somehow understand it. 

“ _ Pack, pack. Kill, kill! _ ” After a few tense moments, she blinked, and shook her head. “Um… what was that?”

“A message from StarClan,” Emberdawn meowed tensely. “What were you dreaming of?”

“A cat named Spottedleaf,” Moonpaw replied, struggling to her paws, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. “She said she was the medicine cat before Yellowfang, and that she was gonna mentor me when I was dreaming every night. I liked her. Towards the end, I started hearing weird barking sounds? I don’t get it, but Spottedleaf was getting really nervous, and then I woke up!”

“You said… Pack, pack, kill, kill.”

“Yeah, that was what the barking sound was, sort of.” The dark grey molly looked around the Sunningrocks, her tail twitching. “Can you help me get back to camp? I’m hoping some of the herbs are still there.”

“Okay,” she agreed softly, stretching her leg out. Around her, cats were rousing. Most of the Clan had fallen asleep after the vigil, excepting the few staying awake for watch. 

Spottedleaf was mentoring Moonpaw, then. Emberdawn smiled to herself vaguely as she stood, shaking out her pelt. She got an apprentice after all. It comforted her, really, that such an old promise was fulfilled-- even in the wake of a tragedy. 

Moonpaw kept glancing at the deputy, her green eyes full of apprehension as they padded through the trees. A few were scorched, but it seemed that most of the forest had been spared. There would still be prey for the Clan. 

“What’s wrong?”

She  _ eep _ ed, and then shook out her fur, looking embarrassed. “Uhm… sorry, it’s… well, it’s not really nothing…”

“Just spit it out,” she meowed fondly. 

“CanyoupleasetakemetotheMoonstone?”

Emberdawn blinked, and Moonpaw licked her chest fur, avoiding the huntress’s eyes as she repeated herself.

“Can you please take me to the Moonstone? Someone… Someone needs to present me to StarClan, and Spottedlead said you would be able to help me a little, and you’re also my deputy, so you could technically bring me to the Moonstone and act as my mentor… you don’t have to, though!”

She blinked again, then purred. “Of course I will, Moonpaw. You’re my family, and I won’t leave you alone with the other medicine cats. Don’t worry too much about it, okay?”

“Okay.”

They reached camp, and Emberdawn’s tired eyes trailed the remains. It seemed even worse than when she had led the patrol to come back for the bodies of Patchpelt and Halftail, when it was smoking and the patrol was trying to move as quickly as possible to escape the smoke. 

Now, it was desolate and empty. The bracken barriers were mere piles of ash, some of the dens collapsed entirely. The warrior’s den was half gone, the branches blackened and burnt. The elder’s den was only rubble, resembling a large nest, if the nest had been burnt and left to rot in the greenleaf sun. The medicine den’s fern tunnel was almost burned away, but the den itself seemed secure, much like the leader’s den in how it was nestled inside rock. 

Moonpaw slipped inside, and emerged many heartbeats later. “The herbs are fine. You should start sending wounded cats up here… I’ll do my best.”

“Okay.”

Emberdawn ended up back at Sunningrocks, rounding up her Clan with exhaustion making her paws drag. “No, Runningwind, we aren’t staying here.”

“Why not?”

“Yeah, why not?” A silky voice asked, and at once, a dozen or more hostile glares were shot towards the river’s edge, where a RiverClan tom sat. His blue-gray fur was a dead giveaway-- this was Stonefur, to be certain. “We saw the fire from our camp. Can’t help but hope your Clan was weak enough to take back Sunningrocks.”

Bluestar didn’t speak, her eyes dull as she stared at her son. Emberdawn sighed, knowing that with Bluestar acting complacent, she would be more likely to just offer up Sunningrocks than defend her Clan’s honor, which she seemed to have no faith in.

“Our Clan is strong, but I will give you a message in hopes you will leave us in peace for some moons, if RiverClan has any honor.”

Stonefur looked at her, probably surprised she spoke in lieu of her leader, and then nodded. “Alright. Sorry, I know I came off really rude. Leopardfur wanted me to scare you or something… wait, why are your kits here?” He looked confusedly at Silverstream, who was curling around Stormkit and Featherkit.

“Our camp burned,” she replied shortly. “The damage will be repaired soon enough, but we lost three elders to the flames as well as our medicine cat, Yellowfang.”

He froze, eyes going wide, and he seemed to ooze dread. “You don’t have a  _ medicine cat _ ?”

“We have Moonpaw,” she defended, but it sounded weak, even to her. After a moment, she sighed. “We aren’t helpless by any means, and we will not hesitate to tear out the throats of any cat who tries to attack us thinking we are weak. We have kits to protect, which I’m sure you understand.”

Stonefur looked around at ThunderClan, then bowed his head. “Very well. I’ll tell Crookedstar that ThunderClan survived the fire and is still strong, and pass along your warning. He’s bitter, but he’s a cat of honor. He won’t try to take back Sunningrocks knowing that you lost Yellowfang.”

“Thank you.”

As he slipped back into the water, Darkstripe shot her a scathing look. “Hey, kittypet! You just told an enemy warrior our weaknesses!”

She immediately turned to glare back at the darkly-colored warrior. “It’s called diplomacy, Darkstripe, and if you don’t understand it, you apparently have no honor. What I did was explain the situation in a way that will make them pity us, and therefore less inclined to attack. If they do attack, I will lead it and happily tear the RiverClan mange-pelts to shreds, because they will have proven that they have no honor. Now, do you have anything productive to say, or are you going to shut your mousetrap and get your tail to camp?”

He grumbled, and shuffled his paws before turning and stalking into the woods. The Clan followed him, most shooting him wary looks and the others calling gentle, supportive words to Emberdawn.

Then, it was only Bluestar and Emberdawn left. 

“Fire was supposed to save our Clan,” she hissed. 

“The fire is a cat, not a literal--”

“Silence!” Her blue eyes blazed with madness, and Emberdawn shrunk back, fearing the consequences of her interruption. “StarClan has lied to us! Fire has not saved us, but destroyed us! We will never speak to StarClan! We will turn our backs on those mange-pelted liars! ThunderClan is at war!”

“With-- with  _ StarClan _ ?” Her voice shook. 

“Who  _ else _ ?!”

And Emberdawn was  _ terrified _ . 

What had happened to her leader?

She had assigned Dustpelt to be the leader of repairs ages ago, and under his careful eye, the camp was nearly completed, something he had no end of pride in. Though he once joked he would make a better deputy, and Brightpaw nearly ripped his throat open, significantly more offended than Emberdawn was. Of course, she had broked it up, and found no end of amusement in the altercation.

Longtail nudged her, his eyes worried. “Emberdawn?”

“What’s up?” She asked easily, nosing Featherkit. She had been kitsitting for the queens while they were putting the nursery back into order, and just as she recalled from doing this for Sweetheart, it was  _ exhausting _ . Keeping an eye on six kits was no small feat. She was more than a little worried for Snowkit, who seemed extremely spacey and never responded when she tried to talk to him. 

“Our patrol scented dogs by Snakerocks. A  _ lot _ of dogs. And… prey. There were piles of prey-bones with dog-scent all over them.”

Her blood ran cold, and immediately, she stood. “Dappletail! Smallear!” The two elders lifted their heads, and as she beckoned them, they stood unquestioningly. “I need you two to watch the kits, please. Sandstorm!”

The pale ginger she-cat looked up from where she was chewing on a sparrow’s bones. “Yeah?”

“Gather the available warriors.”

She nodded, and immediately began running around the camp, yowling for the Clan to gather. Emberdawn scrambled up to the Highrock with a wary glance into the leader’s den, where Bluestar would sulk. She hadn’t come out for days, if not weeks. The half-moon was tonight… and if she stayed in her den, she’d never know that Emberdawn took Moonpaw to the Moonstone, ignoring her horrible declaration of war against StarClan.

The warriors were bunching beneath her, and she lifted her tail. Silence fell at once, and she swept her gaze over the Clan, ignoring the knot in her stomach. 

“Longtail’s patrols have scented a significant amount of dogs around Snakerocks. These dogs can hunt, and they, like all dogs, will be dangerous. No cat is to leave camp without two companions. No queens or elders may leave the camp at all. Apprentices will be with a warrior at all times. This is not an option.”

The Clan seemed too shocked to argue, and she nodded to herself, looking around. 

“What about Bluestar?” Swiftpaw asked, hesitance shining through. “Is she still-- uh.”

Most of the Clan had heard her raving about StarClan by now, and it was more or less an open secret. Emberdawn felt her pelt burn with shame. “Yes.” She looked up, and saw something in the sky. “What is that?”

It grew closer and closer, and someone yowled, “ _ Hawk _ !”

The Clan scattered, and the elders were herding the kits. However, Snowkit seemed to be ignoring the elder’s calls. Speckletail was freaking out, calling for her kit desperately. 

The hawk swooped low, and Brackenfur leapt at it, but not in time as it extended its claws, aiming for the white kit.

A tabby pelt slammed into him, and was snatched in Snowkit’s place.

“ _ Mistlekit! _ ”

Brackenfur leapt again, ripping feathers out of the hawk’s wings and tail, and Emebrdawn launched into action, gripping its shoulders. Mistlekit wailed in pain, and Snowkit had turned, cowering. The hawk snapped its beak at him, and Emberdawn was forced to release the hawk to redirect the blow from the kit.

The hawk struggled away, Mistlekit screaming in terror as she was lifted into the sky, ThunderClan standing below in shock and dismay.

Bluestar had emerged from the leader’s den to see what the commotion was, and watched the hawk with bored eyes.

Speckletail, sobbing, tore over to her leader.

“Name her! Name her  _ now _ !”

_ What? _

Instead, Bluestar stared impassively at Speckletail, and turned around.

“No.”

Silverstream gasped, and Speckletail began to shriek obscenities at the leader. Emberdawn looked at her friend in confused horror. “What’s going on? Mistlekit was just dragged off by a  _ hawk _ and Speckletail wants her named?”

The mollies locked eyes, and Silverstream curled around Featherkit and Stormkit, who were both crying. “Only cats with full names go to StarClan,” she whispered. “Kits and apprentices that die before their time are named so that they can go to StarClan… if they aren’t named, then they’re doomed to roam the forest alone and in torment. It’s why Mapleshade went so insane-- nobody named her kits, so she killed cats in hopes that her kits could follow them to StarClan.”

Her heart dropped, and she looked at the fading form of the hawk.

_ Mistlekit isn’t going to StarClan. _

In the distance, she saw the half-moon rising, and she resolved herself.

_ I will beg StarClan to let her in, tonight even if it kills me. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So pissed that the Erins killed off Snowkit. What the fuck, Erins? Our only deaf character is killed off in infancy because they’re deaf!   
> Anyway, canonically Snowkit has a sister named Mistlekit, and the Erins kind of forgot she existed between Rising Storm and a Dangerous Path. I thought it would be much more interesting if Mistlekit was killed instead of Snowkit.  
> Anyway, I took this idea from the “-spirit suffix au” from Draikinator! They’re so good at making AUs and honestly I loved the concept, and it also makes Mapleshade (aka #1 character) a much more understandable person, which is what I’m shooting for. 
> 
> As always, comment please!!!


	31. A Dangerous Path: III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Moonstone. Brightpaw’s fate.

“He’s deaf.”

Moonpaw’s eyes were dull as the pair of dark-furred mollies snuck away from camp. Emberdawn blinked at Moonpaw, and shrugged. “So?”

“He’s… deaf. You know, can’t hear?” The medicine cat apprentice stared at the huntress blankly, and she looked back. 

She was surprised, sure, but not  _ that _ much. It was obvious in retrospect. “I mean, it’s not that big of a deal. One-eye is--  _ was _ almost entirely blind and deaf, and she got around just fine.”

“But she’s an  _ elder _ ,” Moonpaw stressed. “He’s a kit… and he’s gonna grow up to be an apprentice. How would he cope?”

“Doesn’t he do a lot of small motions with the other kits and his mother? Like, tail lashes and stuff? They communicate pretty well.”

“Oh… you have a point.” She looked away, and Emberdawn could feel the heat radiating from her pelt in shame. “I sound really awful, actually… acting like he can’t do anything.”

“You’re alright. What’s important is that you know you said something bad and want to change it.” The huntress licked Moonpaw’s head gently, and looked surreptitiously about the moor. She couldn’t really remember when they had crossed the border into WindClan, but she wouldn’t be complaining. “I try to be as open as I can. My leg was fu… messed up when I was a kit, and I believe I was about halfway through my apprenticeship when it got to the point it is now.”

“I forgot you had that leg,” she mewed, eyeing it. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Sometimes, like late in the day or when it’s cold or stiff. Now, yeah, it’s pretty sore, but I’ve dealt with much worse.”

Highstones approached rapidly, and the two mollies were met with the other medicine cats. Fleetwhisker wrinkled his nose in confusion, and Barkface asked, “Where’s Yellowfang?”

“She died in the fire,” Emberdawn replied shortly. “Moonpaw here was apprenticed a few weeks before the fire, so I’m here to present her to StarClan… even though I don’t really know how.”

Mudfur, who had probably heard of the ancient she-cat’s fate through Stonefur, nodded. “I’ll teach you the words on the way down.” Turning to address the crowd as a whole, he meowed, “Crookedstar passed two sunrises ago. Leopardstar received her lives last night.”

Her pelt shivered. “Like, Leopardstar as in the mange-pelt that murdered Graystripe out of  _ spite _ ? Who tried to kill me multiple times. That one, right?”

Mudfur shot her an apologetic look, and nodded. “Yellowfang was spitting mad about that when it happened. She screeched at me about the warrior code for almost the entire night… I’m sorry for her actions.”

Emberdawn blinked, not having expected an apology when she insulted the new RiverClan leader, and looked away. “It’s not your fault. Fleetwhisker, how is ShadowClan?” She managed a weak smile, which he returned with equal frailty. 

“Sick. The plague hasn’t loosened its claws on us yet. Even Blackfoot was disgusted by what you said at the Gathering about Tigerstar, but healthy cats are few and far between. We couldn’t drive him out even if we wanted to… the warrior code forbids it.”

The group descended, Mudfur quietly coaching Emberdawn through the ceremony, and she felt her way through the pitch-blackness. The stone was cold beneath her paws, and at some points it was so thin her fur brushed the walls of the tunnel. She kept her eyes fixed ahead, and finally, she felt it open up, and she saw through the dim light a massive crystal rising from the rock.

After a moment, a beam of moonlight came through a split in the ceiling, and the crystal was illuminated, shining brilliantly white. 

It took her breath away.

_ The Moonstone _ .

Knowing now what she had to do, she approached the Moonstone, her eyes wide with awe. In the corner of her eye, she saw Moonpaw with a similar expression. 

She beckoned Moonpaw forward, and they stood facing each other beside the Moonstone. 

“Moonpaw, is it your wish to enter the mysteries of StarClan as a medicine cat?”

The apprentice looked at the Moonstone, her green gaze filled with grief and solemnity, and nodded. “It is.”

“Then come forward.” Turning her face to the Moonstone, Emberdawn took a deep breath before continuing. “Warriors of StarClan, I present you with this apprentice. They have chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant them your wisdom and insight so that they may understand your ways and heal their Clan in accordance with your will.”

After a beat, all the cats moved forward to touch their noses to the Moonstone.

Almost immediately, Emberdawn slid into sleep. 

_ “Hello, Emberdawn, Moonpaw.” _

_ Spottedleaf greeted the two as they opened their eyes, now standing in a field of starlight. Moonpaw still looked around in wonder, despite likely having been here multiple times.  _

_ “Mama,” Emberdawn greeted warmly, pressing her nose gently against Spottedleaf’s. The former medicine cat purred, giving Emberdawn a gentle swipe over the ears. _

_ “Stop that! You make me sound old.” _

_ Moonpaw dashed over, her eyes wide. “I thought medicine cats couldn’t have kits!” _

_ “I’m kittypet-born, Moonpaw,” the deputy replied, amusement coloring her tone. “Spottedleaf was very much like a mother to me, but she wasn’t my birth mother.” _

_ “Oh, right.” She shuffled her paws, and Emberdawn recalled what she wanted to speak about. _

_ “Will Mistlekit really not be able to enter StarClan?” she asked, worriedly shifting from one paw to the other.  _

_ Spottedleaf blinked, and then seemed to ponder that. “Follow me… I want to show you two something.” _

_ The two living cats followed the dead, passing by different clearings as they padded through the forest of stars. At last, Spottedleaf stopped, raising her tail. The smell of honeysuckle and milk reached her nose, and she walked forward a few steps, marveling at the clearing they had reached.  _

_ It was less of a clearing and more of a massive nursery, easily the size of the ThunderClan camp. Queens threaded around the many entrances, some herding kits and others talking easily. _

_ “This place is one of the most well-protected in all of StarClan,” she murmured, “besides one place that I am sure you two will see one day. Without an escort, it is impossible to find.” _

_ “It’s… it’s beautiful,” Moonpaw meowed earnestly.  _

_ “Yes,” Spottedleaf agreed. “Think about the wording of a warrior ceremony;  _ we accept you as a full member of ThunderClan _ , or any other Clan. Apprentices and kits aren’t technically full members of their Clans, which is how it works in StarClan. Those who die without full names are sent here, to the nursery. Apprentices guard the queens until they’re made warriors, kits are taken care of by the queens until they are old enough to be apprenticed, and so on. Unfortunately, that process can only take place if they have been given a naming ceremony.” _

_ Following Spottedleaf’s gaze, Emberdawn saw a black-and-white she-kit sitting beside a white queen, who gently bathed her ears.  _

_ “That is Mosskit and Snowfur. Bluestar’s kit and sister, respectively. If Mosskit had been given a proper naming ceremony, she would have been free to leave the nursery and become a warrior of StarClan, but it was not to be… so Snowfur, who died not long after her son Whitestorm was born, dedicated her time in StarClan to watch over her.” _

_ “Mosskit is older than me, and she’s never left the nursery?” _

_ “No.” _

_ Without warning, a small tabby kit burst out of the entrance and rocketed towards the trio of mollies. Wide eyes stared up at them, and Mistlekit beamed. _

_ “You came! I knew you’d come to see me!” _

_ Not far behind, an unfamiliar queen hurried. “Mistlekit, she can’t stay… she’s alive, remember?” _

_ “I know,” the she-kit pouted, and fondly rubbed her head against Emberdawn’s leg. She choked back a sob, and leaned over to lick Mistlekit’s ears. “How’s Snowkit? Is he okay? I was really scared for him.” _

_ “He’s okay,” she murmured, heart constricting painfully. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t save you.” _

_ “I knew what I was getting into!” Mistlekit huffed in exasperation. “I’m young, not stupid!” _

_ “I never said you were.” _

_ “It was implied!” _

_ Moonpaw approached the queen, and looked at Mistlekit. “Who are you?” _

_ “I’m Leopardfoot,” she meowed simply.  _

_ “Nice to meet you, then,” Moonpaw meowed, then nosed Mistlekit. “Hey, are you gonna be okay like this?” _

_ The kit, bless her heart, understood the implication. “I mean, Bluestar’s real old. She’ll probably croak soon.” _

_ “Mistlekit!” Spottedleaf chastised, but she ignored her. _

_ “Besides, Emberdawn will name me. I know it!” Mistlekit beamed up at Emberdawn, and she smiled weakly back. She was  _ definitely _ not ready to be leader… but Bluestar was denying so many cats their names. _

_ All she could really do was hope Bluestar went peacefully.  _

_ At the mention of Bluestar, the deputy looked up at Mosskit, who had glanced over with interest in her eyes. Her paws moved by themselves, and Emberdawn stood before the not-kit, and bowed her head respectfully.  _

_ “I know your story,” she meowed, and Mosskit’s eyes widened a bit. “Bluestar told me what happened to you, and I’m so sorry she never gave you a name. If I ever become leader, I promise you that I’ll be sure to give you a proper naming ceremony.” _

_ Snowfur was watching, and immediately began purring. “You’re Emberdawn, aren’t you? Swiftpaw hasn’t shut up about you. He swears up and down that you’re gonna name him.” _

_ Her stomach dropped. “How… why do you--?” _

_ “Emberdawn?” _

_ A terrifyingly familiar voice sounded from behind her, and oh-so-slowly, the deputy turned. _

_ Swiftpaw was standing there, his pelt prickling with anxiety as he stood before her. _

_ “You--” She cut herself off, surging forward to circle Swiftpaw, her tail lashing in anxiety. “You’re here. How are you  _ here _?!” _

_ The black-and-white tom smiled sadly. “Brightpaw and I went looking for the dogs.” _

_ StarClan, no.  _

_ “You need to get back, now. Sandstorm is doing all she can, but without Moonpaw’s help, Brightpaw will die by sunrise.” _

_ “Swiftpaw--” _

_ “Go!” _

Her paws couldn’t move fast enough. A trail of snapped twigs and disturbed foliage followed Emberdawn and Moonpaw as they ran through the forest, and she bunched her muscles before leaping clear over the half-repaired bracken barrier. The medicine cat apprentice was only a heartbeat behind, and she sped up impossibly as she landed, shoving roughly past Emberdawn and dove into the medicine den, from which she heard sobs of pain. Blood painted the entrance, shining dangerously on the scorched ferns. 

She followed quickly despite the exhaustion in her limbs. “What do you need?”

In one nest was the mutilated body of Swiftpaw, the blood soaking his fur now stiff and dark. In the other, Brightpaw lay panting and sobbing, half of her face shredded. 

“Borage, and the dark-leaved root. Horsetail. Now!”

Sandstorm, whose paws were stained with blood, nodded dazedly and began pulling the herbs off the shelves. Moonpaw shoved the herbs to Emberdawn, and she understood, leaning forward to chew them as quickly as she could stomach and spitting them into Moonpaw’s paw. As she began applying them to Brightpaw’s face, she wailed in agony and began to thrash.

“Get Bluestar,  _ now _ !”

The pale ginger molly nodded once, still looking distant, and vanished. 

“Fox dung!” Moonpaw spat, trying to pin Brightpaw. “Help me out here!”

Too panicked to do anything else, Emberdawn pressed her entire weight on her forepaws, which she had settled on Brightpaw’s shoulder and hip, keeping the molly still as the medicine cat apprentice clumsily wrapped large leaves around her face, protecting her wounded side.

Bluestar slipped in to see the groaning Brightpaw pinned under Emberdawn, with Moonpaw throwing out what was likely every swear she had ever learnt.

“You want me to name them.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes!” Moonpaw snapped, finally wrestling the leaves into a knot. “We don’t know if she’ll make it to morning!”

“No. StarClan can take her as an apprentice.”

White-hot fury shot like a frightened sparrow under Emberdawn’s skin. She rounded on her leader, eyes flashing with anger. 

“Is this what you thought about Mosskit?”

Immediately, Bluestar flinched back. “You know nothing--”

“I know that she’s been suffering! I know you never bothered to name her, and I know that she was never accepted into StarClan as a warrior like she deserved. And I know that it was entirely your fault!” It was a low blow, but Moonpaw’s eyes flashed with approval. “You’ve delayed Brightpaw’s warrior ceremony for moons already!”

Bluestar hesitaated again, her face torn, and then solidified. “Very well, then. I, Bluestar, call my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has given her life in the service of her Clan and I commend her as a warrior in her turn. She will be known as Lostface, so that every cat knows what StarClan did to take her from us.”

“That’s a fox-hearted name to give any cat!” Moonpaw spat, glaring at Bluestar. “What if she lives, then?!”

“Then we will all have the more reason to remember what StarClan has brought us to. They will have this warrior as Lostface, or not at all. Let StarClan receive her by the name of Lostface.” Bluestar’s voice and eyes were cold. “There, it is done.”

The two were utterly silent as Bluestar left the den, leaving them with the cruelly-named Lostface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a few comments about Draikinator on the last chapter, and I’m really sorry to anyone I made uncomfortable. I genuinely had no idea about the shit they did to people, and I’m upset about that. Thank you for the warnings about them.
> 
> At any rate, I’m pretty sure the next chapter is the last. “Why isn’t there an arc for Bluestar blaming WindClan?” Because I thought it was dumb and Ravenpaw isn’t around to pass notes between the Clans. Besides, I think it’s so much more interesting for Emberdawn to “betray” Bluestar by bringing Moonpaw to the Moonstone and therefore StarClan. It let me weasel in my ideas about the whole naming AU.


	32. A Dangerous Path: IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emberdawn panicks. Scourge reflects. Cinderheart would die for any kit. Dogs exist and that sucks.

“You went to the Moonstone.” Bluestar’s voice was cold and factual, and Emberdawn bristled, raking her claws across the stone floor of the leader’s den. She stopped, the feeling of it reminding her of being pinned beneath Tigerstar, knowing if she didn’t play dead then all hope would be lost. 

It wasn’t a good memory.

“You went to the Moonstone, knowing we were at war!”

“And you named a cat  _ Lostface _ !”

Her cheek stung as Bluestar’s claws dug into it, and she froze, eyes wide, as blood began to dribble down her muzzle.

ThunderClan’s mad leader sneered in disgust.

“Get out of my den. I live with no one but traitors and liars… I am alone in my war, I see that now. Leave me!”

“Bluestar--”

Again, her face stung as this time, Bluestar raked her claws over her nose, forcing her to shake blood away before it spilled into her eyes. “ _ Get out _ !”

Fur spiking, Emberdawn scrambled out of the den, her breath coming in gasps. Her paws slipped over the cold stone, and she tumbled off of Highrock, landing in a heap before heaving herself to her paws. 

Distantly, someone was calling for her, but her chest was constricting and her legs shook and her lungs refused to suck in air and she  _ ran _ .

Scourge lived and breathed frost and ice for most of his life.

He had first felt the cold creeping in when he was just a kit, and he was scared of it. He was tiny, black, and nobody wanted him. No housefolk would take him, so Ruby had taken it as an opportunity to be cruel.

_ “Do you know what happens to kits who don’t get picked? They’re thrown in the river, Tiny!” _

The ice had crept into his paws, and he wanted to hurt them, but he pulled back, afraid of himself.

He had gone into the forest and felt powerful for the first time in his life, the scents of the wild welcoming him like he had come home. 

And then Tigerpaw pinned him to the ground, snarling about intruders. 

He had fled, then. Fled into the alleyways, and it became a different sort of home. The home that would hide him, wreath him in shadow and keep him safe. No housefolk would throw him in the river, and no wild cat would kill him for intruding. Instead, from the moment he picked up an old dog’s tooth and claimed he had killed it, he was powerful.

Offerings were brought to him, and bit by bit, his collar became studded with bones. Bone had been the first to copy him, then Brick and then all the rest of the cats he called his own. 

And when he was young, when those Clan cats came in and tried to hurt him, his family? 

He killed them, and he let the ice freeze his heart solid. He swore that he would never feel again. Never let anyone hurt him, terrorize him. 

And then the forest cats came again. New cats, who regarded him with fear and hesitant respect. At first, he had felt nothing but contempt, until that molly snapped at him.

The molly with eyes made of fire, burning bright and warm and when he jumped down to meet her, learning her name to be Emberdawn and that they were searching for the weird Cloudpaw tom, he looked at her and saw himself. 

She had been born a kittypet, just like him, and with only a few words, she had begun to melt the ice he had incased himself in.  _ “... we must treat every kit like they are our own, no matter what Clan or otherwise they were born in… attacking a kit, or even apprenticing them before six moons, is strictly forbidden-- a cat named Brokentail murdered kits, and I ripped a life out of him myself.” _

Yes, Emberdawn had been the most interesting cat he’d met in many seasons. She was younger than him, probably born a season or so after he fled his housefolk, but she could have been his littermate.

And then Tigerpaw returned, turning up in Scourge’s alleys and claiming he was the new leader of ShadowClan, a sister Clan to the one Emberdawn belonged to. Tigerstar had looked at him like a particularly large rat instead of the most dangerous cat he’d ever met. 

When Scourge rejected him coldly, deciding that working with Tigerstar was not worth the trouble, he left… or so Scourge thought, until he learned that Bone and Brick had decided to overthrow him, and suddenly the alleys were split between his cat’s and Bone’s-- he had ripped Brick’s throat out, the disgusting traitor. 

So he had gone to his old nest. The nest Quincey used to live in, but she had long gone to another housefolk, and a kittypet named Hattie lived there.

Smudge, who lived in the next garden, had told wild stories about a cat he had grown up with named Belladonna running off into the forest with her sister, Princess. It didn’t take a genius to figure out ‘Belladonna’ was Emberdawn. 

It was peaceful there, and he went to the garden to sleep when he wasn’t running the pseudo-war with Bone. 

The peace was shattered when Emberdawn came crashing into the garden just before dawn, her eyes wide with panic. Scourge had to pin her down before she came to her senses and sat up, which led to the situation now.

Emberdawn blinked at them, then licked her chest. Scourge notied her face was bleeding from claw-marks, but he saw no fur or blood on her own claws. She’d been attacked and panicked. Likely by someone she trusted, since she seemed like the type to claw back at anyone else. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Hattie asked, leaning forward to lick Emberdawn’s wounds.

“I interrupted your morning,” she stated obviously, and glanced back at the fence. “I should head back…”

“Take me with you!” Hattie’s words were sudden, and she stared at Emberdawn pleadingly. Scourge looked at the kittypet in confusion. “I’m… I’m expecting, and I’ve seen that housefolk take kits away from their mothers. I don’t want to lose my kits.”

“Twolegs are  _ kit-thieves _ ?”

It seemed that Emberdawn had made her decision right then and there, so Scourge left with a quiet farewell, heading back to the alleys that didn’t feel like home anymore. 

The two she-cats were just barely over the scent marker when a gray blur intercepted them.

“Ember! Oh, StarClan above, you’re alive!” 

Knowing only one cat had the audacity to shorten her name like that-- something she had learned was incredibly disrespectful to anyone a cat wasn’t close with-- Emberdawn beamed in return. “Yeah, I’m alright, Cinder. Don’t tell me you’ve been rocketing around the territory since sunrise!”

Cinderheart huffed, plopping down in front of them. Her curious eyes found Hattie, but she seemed to have the tact not to bring her up yet. “Of  _ course _ I did! Lucky I got Tallpines, Ravenflight’s been pacing Sunningrocks for ages and Sandstorm is patrolling the Thunderpath. Keeps worrying that the dogs got to you, too. Or RiverClan. Whichever is worse.”

“RiverClan. The dogs don’t have the intelligence to hold me prisoner.” 

She laughed, then finally acknowledged the badger in the forest. “So, who’s your kittypet friend? Bluestar won’t like her much.”

“Long story. The short version is that I ran into her and an acquaintance after my… breakdown… and I ended up in Twolegplace. She’s expecting, about two moons along if I’m right, and needs help. She fled her Twolegs because they would have stolen her kits.”

She knew the words had the right effect when the fur along Cinderheart’s spine bristled. Cinderheart had never spoken about it aloud, but she knew she harbored a deep resentment towards Brokentail and his rogues over her kidnapping. “I’ll help vouch for her.”

“Thank you,” she meowed genuinely.

“Anything for my tiny mentor!”

“Oh, shut it!”

Bluestar hadn’t even bothered to come out of her den when Emberdawn told her that there was a queen she wanted to take in, only muttering about traitors before screaming that she could do whatever she wanted, since she had already wrested control of ThunderClan away.

It wasn’t true, but in a way it was, and it stung. Emberdawn had been running things since Bluestar’s descent into madness, even going to Gatherings in Bluestar’s place and keeping close tabs on all of her Clanmates. She was overworked and exhausted, and most days she didn’t want to crawl out of her nest to face the next sunrise, but she had to do it. 

Had to see Moonpaw become an accomplished medicine cat. Had to see Sweetheart’s rise to power in ThunderClan, her gentle smile hiding vicious claws. Had to see Ravenflight’s confidence grow until he could finally stand in front of StarClan, certain he had been the best warrior he could have been. Had to see Swiftpaw and Mistlekit and Mosskit get named, had to see Lostface get the name she deserved. 

So she got up every morning more exhausted than the last, and soon enough, a whole moon had passed, RiverClan announcing their allegiance with ShadowClan at the Gathering and most RiverClan cats looking rather unhappy with that. Also Tigerstar glaring at her the entire time. That was a horrible experience, and she had fallen into her nest shaking as soon as she got home, Ravenflight pressed against her in a similar state of shock and fear.

It wasn’t until a quarter-moon after the Gathering that anything happened. That ‘anything’ being defined by Darkstripe trying (and utterly, utterly failing) to smuggle Brackenkit and Tawnykit out of camp.

She stood in front of them, her limbs groaning with the effort of being awake at this hour. Cinderheart sat next to her-- fortunately, the she-cat had been the one on duty as the guard, and she had a well-known habit of obsessively checking the nursery to see if everyone was safe inside. Something that was not lost on Emberdawn in the least.

“Explain to me  _ why _ you were attempting to bring five-moon-old kits out of camp, into the forest where there has been a group of  _ dogs _ that  _ murdered Swiftpaw _ prowling? Two young, impressionable kits?”

He growled slightly, and the two kits cowered between them, clearly indecisive. Then, Tawnykit broke the silence. 

“He was gonna have us meet Tigerstar. No one ever talks about him, but he’s the leader of ShadowClan and we thought…  _ I  _ thought it would be good to meet him.”

Her eyes were so heartbreakingly sad, and she looked down, tail wrapping around her paws. Almost at once, Emberdawn was reminded of the suggestion that she mentored the kit, and gently extended her paw, bringing the kit close-- no small feat, considering Tawnykit was her size, if not a bit bigger. 

“It isn’t your fault, Tawnykit. I promise I’ll tell you about your father in the morning, but first you need some sleep. I grew up without my father, too. His name was Jake, did you know I was born a kittypet?”

Cinderheart’s eyes flashed knowingly, understanding that she was diverting attention from the topic at hand. “She can tell you all sorts of stories about how she joined ThunderClan, I bet, but it’s off to bed with you two for now, okay? Your mother will be worried sick.”

Bramblekit’s eyes shot wide, and he immediately began scrambling back into the nursery, followed quickly by Tawnykit.

With the two children absent, the mollies’ eyes became dangerous as they looked at Darkstripe.

“Tigerstar is a traitor to our Clan,” she hissed, letting her claws slide out, glinting in the dim moonlight. “And if you want to be considered a ThunderClan cat, I suggest you never try something like this again. You will be branded as a kit-thief and our Clanmates will not hesitate in hunting you down like the rat you are. Are we  _ clear _ ?”

He immediately cowered, but Cinderheart stepped forward now, her eyes as deep and blue as the river, and Emberdawn was reminded of the day she and Sandstorm pulled Mistyfoot’s kits out of the storm. “Tigerstar attempted to kill our leader, and orchestrated the murders of the two deputies that preceded him. Remember where your loyalties lie, Dirtstripe.”

With that, the two mollies returned to where they had been-- Emberdawn tossing and turning in her nest, and Cinderheart resuming her guard duty, silent and statue-like.

She was on a hunting patrol with Whitestorm, Dustpelt, Fernpaw, and Ashpaw when it happened. She had rolled her eyes at the whole selection-- she had only chosen Dustpelt and Ashpaw, to see how Ashpaw was doing in terms of hunting lessons, and Fernpaw had immediately jumped on the chance to spend time with Dustpelt, who she was obviously crushing on. Dustpelt, ever the oblivious idiot, didn’t notice. Honestly, it was almost worse than her and Ravenflight. Whitestorm had offered to stay behind and watch camp, and she immediately told him to come with her, leaving Mousefur in charge instead. 

Whitestorm was a good cat, and an honorable one, but she knew how often he stayed in camp in recent moons to hover near Bluestar’s den. He was her nephew, if she remembered correctly, and she practically raised him after his mother’s death. He needed time away from camp, to relax.

Relaxation was not what they found.

Instead, they found a trail of dead rabbits stinking of ShadowClan leading to their camp, and not far from Snakerocks, where the trail began, was Brindleface, her face frozen in surprise and claws half-sheathed, frozen in time even with her snapped neck obvious. Blood didn’t even stain her beautiful gray tabbly pelt, and she knew her death had been sudden. It had probably been a sneak attack, something that occured to her in the long moment she had stood over her friend, too shocked to move. 

Fernpaw’s wail of grief brought her back to reality, and she roughly slammed a paw over the apprentice’s muzzle.

“I’m so, so sorry, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled to the corpse, before shaking away her thoughts and focusing on Fernpaw. “Be quiet, the dogs are only awake at night but if you wake them up it will be hell on earth for us. Dustpelt, take the apprentices with you and gather up the rabbits-- throw them in the river if you can, and get the other apprentices to help you. Whitestorm… I need you to get the elders and bury Brindle--” her voice broke, and she took a deep breath. “Get the elders and help them bury Brindleface. I’ll rally the Clan. This is a setup. Tigerstar is trying to set the dogs on our camp.”

Dustpelt inhaled sharply, and began herding the pair of distraught apprentices away. Emberdawn closed her eyes tightly, telling herself to trust Whitestorm, and began to run.

She ran straight into camp, not bothering to waste her time talking to Bluestar as she jumped as high as she could, hooking her claws on the edge of Highrock and standing tall on it.

“All cats of ThunderClan, to the Highrock! There’s an emergency!”

It wasn’t anywhere close to a traditional call, but it did the job done and it did it  _ fast _ . Cats began to pur out of dens, and most of the Clan stood in front of the Highrock, confused looks on their faces.

“There is a trail of dead rabbits leading to our camp, and I suspect Tigerstar is behind it. At-- at Snakerocks, my hunting patrol found Brindleface. Her neck was snapped. Elders, I ask that you leave camp and head to Snakerocks to help Whitestorm bury her, but be as quiet as possible. We don’t want to wake the dogs.”

Silence fell over the cats below, and she struggled to keep her tears contained as she continued. 

“Apprentices, go outside camp and help Fernpaw and Ashpaw throw the rabbits in the river. Send Dustpelt back to us. Lostface--” she cringed at the name, and so did the she-cat in the back. Almost a moon later, and her face had almost completely scarred, leaving only one of her sky-blue eyes functioning. “I need you to take charge of the apprentices. Make sure everyone stays on-task and focused. Can you do that?”

“Of course.” Lostface’s eye glowed with pride at being asked to do such a simple task, yet Emberdawn knew it would be daunting to her, considering her depth perception was gone and she had yet to accustom herself to living with only one eye.

“Queens, you--”

“What are you doing?” Bluestar’s voice interrupted her, and Emberdawn froze. “I was leader, not you, last time I checked.”

“You heard my report, then.”

“Of course I did.” Emberdawn met her leader’s gaze, and for once saw no madness in them. “I will lead the kits and queens to Tallpines. That’s on the other side of the forest as Snakerocks, and we will be safest there.”

She nodded, feeling relief course through her veins. An idea was forming in her mind, and she looked out at the Clan. “May I, Bluestar?”

“Fine, then.” She leapt down, and began gathering the queens and kits.

Emberdawn breathed in, trying to focus on the task she was setting for herself. “There are no patrols out, if I’m right. Mousefur?” When her former mentor nodded, she went on. “Then we have to put this plan into action now. Sweetheart, Frostfur, Cinderheart, and Darkstripe--” she stopped, and then realized he wasn’t among their Clanmates. Betrayal shot through her chest, knowing he had likely joined forces with Tigerstar, yet she shook it off. “Go with Bluestar. She needs to have warriors helping her defend the queens if things go wrong.” She had deliberately picked the cats most likely to fight to the death to defend the kits, but she didn’t want Darkstripe near the dogs, either. 

“Runningwind, Ravenflight, and Brackenfur-- you’re with me. Sandstorm, lead the other warriors and wait by the gorge. My plan is--”

She crouched in the shadows of the tree, her eyes glittering in the dying light. Distantly, she heard barks, nd knew Runningwind was coming up fast. She had done well choosing the fastest cats, but it was all up to her in the end. Even with her bed leg, she was fast. It was just a matter if she could make the final stretch, if her plan would  _ work _ .

Brackenfur would draw the dogs out of their den in Snakerocks and run them to the sandy hollow, where he would climb up a tree and Ravenflight baited them to Sunningrocks. From there, Runningwind would lead them to the gorge, where Emberdawn had stood, her paws planted on the edge. She knew exactly how dangerous the gorge was, especially since it had rained recently, and the white water sloshed far below. She remembered Whiteclaw going over the edge, how she had desperately scrabbled for purchase on the crumbling ground. 

And when she saw the first dog-- black and tan, tall and thick-muscled-- she felt exactly how she had in that moment. Like the world was falling under her paws and she was going to die, hit the water and drown like Whiteclaw. 

(A RiverClan warrior couldn’t beat the tides, so what chance did she have?)

And Runningwind’s eyes lit up when he saw her, his mouth opening to call a frantic greeting, somehow cheerful despite the dogs chasing him, screaming “ _ Pack, pack! Kill, kill! _ ” at frightening volume.

Yet he never got the words out as he ran up to Emberdawn.

A massive tabby struck him, swiping his paws out from under him and throwing him towards the dogs. Runningwind  _ screamed _ , and Emberdawn froze, meeting the hateful eyes of Tigerstar.

The dogs had fallen on Runningwind, but they were only distracted for a moment. Tigerstar leapt for her, and she was frozen in terror as he pinned her, paw slamming into her throat and eyes glittering dangerously.

“I told you to keep looking over your shoulder,  _ kittypet _ .”

The dogs were so close, so close and she heard the rush of water behind her as Tigerstar shoved off, running from the dogs and escaping them with practiced ease, Emberdawn trying to struggle to her paws as the monstrosity of a pack leader was bearing down on her.

_ I’ll see you sooner than I thought, Graystripe _ .

And yet, just as that thought crossed her mind, a blue-gray blur slammed into the pack leader. For a moment, it was like time had frozen. Bluestar, her paws outstretched and her face contorted into a snarl as she shoved the pack leader over, over, into the gorge, and Emberdawn saw that she was going to fall.

“ _ BLUESTAR _ !”

Everything was in motion at once. She dove in unthinkingly, jumping after her Clan leader desperately. She couldn’t lose Bluestar yet! 

The other dogs either were too stupid to stop or were shoved in by the attack patrol Emberdawn had assembled-- meant to drive the dogs into the gorge when they got to the edge. Dogs fell against the waves, and she heard the horrible snapping of bones and pained yelps.

She hit the water, and gasped.

It filled her lungs, and she barely breached the surface enough to wheeze for a breath of oxygen before she was yanked beneath again, her long fur dragging her down. This time, she kept her eyes open, and spotted blue-gray among black.

Her claws stuck out, latching onto Bluestar’s pelt, but she was sinking fast. 

Twin splashes sounded near her, and two cats were suddenly there, latching their teeth and claws to Emberdawn and Bluestar, hauling them out. She coughed up what felt like half the river, blinking water from her eyes as she looked at her two saviors. 

Mistyfoot and Stonefur were forcing Bluestar’s mouth open, Stonefur pumping her chest until the leader spat out water and sucked in a deep, rattling breath.

For many heartbeats, nothing happened. 

“You’re our mother, right?” Mistyfoot’s meow was sudden, and Emberdawn coughed again in surprise at the question directed at her leader. “I just… I wanted to know for sure.”

“I--” Bluestar inhaled again, and weakly lifted her head. “Yes. But I never-- I never wanted to doom you to a half-Clan life. How did you…?”

“Oakheart told us,” Stonefur meowed simply. “Before he died of the infection, he told us about you, so that he could die knowing that… that we knew the truth.”

“He was always smart,” she acknowledged, and then turned her eyes to Emberdawn. “And… my deputy, I’m so sorry. I can’t say I don’t know what happened to me as I spiraled into my own darkness, and I can’t say I wasn’t in control of myself. I lashed out, and you were the closest target. I will never forgive myself for the things I have done to ThunderClan… to Swiftpaw and…” She broke off coughing, but the meaning was not lost on Emberdawn. “I let you down, and I’m sorry I have to leave you now.”

“No,” she whispered, crawling over. “No, no, you can’t do this! You can’t die. I can’t be leader!”

“You were… always going to be the leader, I think,” she murmured, breaking off to cough again. Blood splattered the pebbles, and Mistyfoot recoiled, horror entering her gaze. “Fire alone will save our Clan… well. I saw your eyes, bright as a flame, the day you joined us. You are the fire, Emberdawn. Please… save my Clan. Save  _ your _ Clan. And Mistyfoot, Stonefur… I’m sorry I was never the mother you needed.”

Stonefur crouched by her, and licked her cheek gently. “You did what you thought was right.”

Her blue eyes, clearer than they had been in moons, closed, and she exhaled, her body going still.

Emberdawn felt eyes on her pelt, and she didn’t even have to turn to know Tigerstar had been watching. She felt the prickle in her claws she associated with him, the scent of sickness and ShadowClan easily detectable. 

But he was gone as soon as she looked.

And alone was Emberdawn. Alone despite being with two others. Alone, because she was the new leader of ThunderClan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, Please Comment! ! !   
> I need Validation


	33. The Darkest Hour: Allegiances

**THUNDERCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Emberdawn - tiny black she-cat with amber eyes and a permanent limp in front-left leg

_ DEPUTY _

Whitestorm - big white tom 

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Moonpaw - very dark gray molly with white flecks and green eyes 

_ WARRIORS (toms, she-cats without kits) _

Longtail - pale tabby tom with dark black stripes 

Darkstripe - sleek black-and-gray tabby tom APPRENTICE, FERNPAW

Mousefur - small dusky brown she-cat APPRENTICE, THORNPAW

Dustpelt - dark brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, ASHPAW

Ravenflight - small, skinny black-furred tom with a tiny white dash on his chest and white-tipped tail and violet eyes

Sandstorm - pale ginger she-cat 

Frostfur - beautiful white molly with blue eyes

Brackenfur - golden-brown tabby tom with amber eyes APPRENTICE, SNOWPAW

Cinderheart - dark gray she-cat with clear blue eyes and a crippled hind leg

Sweetheart - light brown tabby she-cat with green eyes

Lostface - white she-cat with ginger patches, maimed left face and a single blue eye

_ APPRENTICES _ (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

Thornpaw - golden-brown tabby tom with pale blue eyes

Ashpaw - pale gray tom with darker flecks and dark blue eyes

Fernpaw - pale gray molly with darker flecks and pale green eyes

Cloudpaw - pure white tom with green eyes 

Sugarpaw - light brown tabby molly with white chest/paws and green eyes

Snowpaw - pale tabby tom with white chest/paws and blue eyes

_QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Willowpelt - very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes

Silverstream - pretty slender silver tabby, formerly RiverClan

Goldenflower - pale ginger queen

Speckletail - pale tabby, the oldest queen

Hattie - little brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes

_ KITS _

Featherkit - silver tabby she-kit with blue eyes (Mother: Silverstream)

Stormkit - dark gray tomkit with amber eyes (Mother: Silverstream)

Bramblekit - dark brown tabby tomkit with amber eyes (Mother: Goldenflower)

Tawnykit - tawny-spotted she-kit with green eyes (Mother: Goldenflower)

Snowkit - pure white tomkit with blue eyes (Mother: Speckletail)

_ ELDERS _ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Smallear - gray tom with very small ears

Dappletail - once-pretty tortoiseshell molly with a lovely dappled coat

**SHADOWCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Tigerstar - dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws

_ DEPUTY _

Blackfoot - large white tom with jet-black paws

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Fleetwhisker - small gray-and-white tom

_ WARRIORS _ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Stumpytail - brown tabby tom

Littlecloud - very small tabby tom

Wetfoot - gray tabby tom

Whitethroat - black tom with white chest and paws

Boulder - silver tabby tom

Oakfur - small brown tom

Russetfur - dark ginger she-cat APPRENTICE, CEDARPAW

Jaggedtooth - huge tabby tom APPRENTICE, ROWANPAW

_QUEENS_ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Dawncloud - small tabby queen

Brightflower - black-and-white queen

Darkflower - black queen

Tallpoppy - long-legged light brown tabby queen

_ ELDERS _ (former warriors and queens, now retired)

Ashfur - thin gray tom

**WINDCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Tallstar - black-and-white tom with a very long tail

_ DEPUTY _

Deadfoot - black tom with a dead paw

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Barkface - short-tailed brown tom

_ WARRIORS _ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Mudclaw - mottled dark brown tom 

Webfoot - dark gray tabby tom

Tornear - tabby tom

Onewhisker - young brown tabby tom APPRENTICE, GORSEPAW

Tawnyfur - golden-brown she-cat

Runningbrook - light gray tabby she-cat

_ QUEENS _ (she-cats expecting or caring for kits)

Ashfoot - gray queen

Morningflower - tortoiseshell queen

Whitetail - small white she-cat

**RIVERCLAN**

_ LEADER _

Leopardstar - unusually spotted black-and-golden tabby molly

_ DEPUTY _

Stonefur - gray tom with heavily scarred ears

_ MEDICINE CAT(S) _

Mudfur - long-furred light brown tom

_ WARRIORS _ (toms, she-cats without kits)

Blackclaw - smoky black tom 

Heavystep - thickset tabby tom

Shadepelt - very dark gray she-cat

Mistyfoot - blue-gray molly with blue eyes

Loudbelly - dark brown tom APPRENTICE, SEALPAW

_ QUEENS _

Mosspelt - tortoiseshell queen

**CATS OUTSIDE CLANS**

_ KITTYPETS _

Smudge - plump and friendly black-and-white tom

Violet - ginger tabby she-cat with blue eyes and a white chest and paws

_ LONERS _

Barley - black-and-white tom who lives on a farm close to the forest

_ TWOLEGPLACE ROGUES _

Scourge - tiny black tom with one white sock and a tooth-studded collar

Bone - black-and-white tom with a tooth-studded collar


	34. The Darkest Hour: Prologue

Rain fell steadily, drumming on the hard black Thunderpath that led between unending rows of stone Twoleg nests. From time to time a monster snarled past, its eyes glaring, and a single Twoleg scurried along, huddled into its shiny pelt.

Two cats slipped silently around the corner, keeping close to the walls where the shadows were deepest.

A skinny gray tom with a ragged ear and bright, watchful eyes went first, every hair on his body slicked dark with the wet. Behind him prowled a huge tabby with massive shoulders and muscles that slid smoothly under his rain-soaked pelt. His amber eyes glowed in the harsh light, and his gaze shifted back and forth as if he expected an attack.

He paused where the dark entrance to a Twoleg nest offered a little shelter and growled, “How much farther? This place stinks.”

The gray tom glanced back. “Not far now.”

“It had better not be.” Grimacing, the dark brown tabby padded on, ears twitching irritably to flick away the raindrops. Harsh yellow light angled across him, and he flinched as a monster roared around the corner, throwing up a wave of filthy water that reeked of Twoleg rubbish. The cat let out a snarl as the water slopped around his paws and the spray drizzled down on his fur.

Everything about the Twolegplace disgusted him: the hard surface under his paws, the stench of monsters and the Twolegs they carried in their bellies, the unfamiliar noises, and most of all, the way that he could not survive here without a guide. The tabby was not used to depending on another cat for anything. In the forest he knew every tree, every stream, every rabbit hole. He was considered the strongest and most dangerous warrior in all the Clans. Now his sharpened skills and senses were useless. He felt as if he were deaf, blind, and lame, reduced to following his companion like a kit trailing helplessly after its mother.

But it would be worth it. The tabby’s whiskers twitched in anticipation. He had already launched a plan that would turn his most hated enemies into helpless prey in their own territory. When the dogs attacked, no cat would suspect that they had been lured and guided every step of the way. And then, if things went according to plan, this expedition into Twolegplace would give him all he had ever wanted.

The gray cat led the way along the path and across an open space reeking of Twoleg monsters, where a swirl of color from unnatural orange lights floated on the puddles. He stopped by the entrance to a narrow alley and opened his jaws to draw in the scent of the air.

The tabby halted and did the same, disgustedly swiping his tongue over his lips at the stink of rotting Twoleg food. “Is this the place?” he asked.

“This is it,” the gray warrior replied tensely. “Now—remember what I told you. The cat we’re going to

meet holds command over many cats. We must treat him with respect.”

“Boulder, have you forgotten who I am?” The tabby took a step forward so that he towered over his companion.

The skinny gray cat’s ears flattened. “No, Tigerstar, I haven’t forgotten. But you’re not the Clan leader here.”

Tigerstar grunted. “Let’s get on with it,” he growled.

Boulder turned into the alley. He stopped short after just a few paces when a huge shape loomed up in front of them.

“Who goes there?” A broad-shouldered black and white cat stepped out of the shadows. Strong muscles were outlined under fur plastered to his body by the rain. “Identify yourselves. We don’t like strangers here.”

“Greetings, Bone,” the gray warrior meowed steadily. “Remember me?”

The black-and-white cat narrowed his eyes and was silent for a few moments. “So you’ve come back, have you, Boulder?” he meowed at last. “You told us you were going to find a better life in the forest. What are you doing here?” He took a step forward, but Boulder held his ground, unsheathing his claws against the uneven ground.

“We want to see Scourge.”

Bone let out a snort, half contempt, half laughter. “I can’t imagine that Scourge will want to see you. And who’s this with you? I don’t recognize him.”

“My name is Tigerstar. I’ve come from the forest to speak with your leader.”

Bone’s green eyes flicked from Tigerstar to Boulder and back again. “What do you want with him?” he demanded.

Tigerstar’s amber gaze burned like the Twoleg lights reflected on the shining wet stones around them. “I’ll discuss that with your leader, not his border patrol.”

Bone bristled and extended his claws, but Boulder quickly slipped between him and Tigerstar. “Scourge needs to hear this,” he insisted. “It could be to every cat’s advantage.”

For a few heartbeats Bone hesitated, and then he stepped back, allowing Boulder and Tigerstar to pass. His hostile glare scorched their fur, but he said nothing.

Now Tigerstar took the lead, treading cautiously as the light faded behind then. On either side, skinny cats were slinking behind piles of rubbish, eyes gleaming as they followed the progress of the two intruders. Tigerstar’s muscles tensed. If this meeting went wrong, he might have to fight his way out.

A wall blocked the end of the alley. Tigerstar stared around, looking for the leader of these cats of Twolegplace. He was expecting an even more massive creature than the broad-shouldered Bone, and at first his gaze swept over the small black cat crouching in a shadowy doorway.

Boulder gave him a nudge and jerked his head in the black cat’s direction. “There’s Scourge.”

“That’s Scourge?” Tigerstar’s exclamation rang with disbelief above the falling rain. “He’s no bigger than an apprentice!”

“Shh!” Panic flared in Boulder’s eyes. “This may not be a Clan as we know it, but these cats would kill if their leader ordered them to.”

“It seems I have visitors.” The black cat’s voice had a brittle, high-pitched sound, like the splintering of ice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again, Boulder. I heard you’d gone to live in the forest.”

“Yes, Scourge, I have,” Boulder replied.

“So what are you doing here?” Scourge’s voice held the faintest suggestion of a snarl. “Have you changed your mind and come crawling back? Do you expect me to welcome you?”

“No, Scourge.” Boulder held the black cat’s ice-blue gaze. “It’s a good life in the forest. There is plenty of fresh-kill, no Twolegs--”

“You haven’t come to extol the virtues of forest life,” Scourge interrupted him with a flick of his tail. “Squirrels live in trees, not cats.” His eyes narrowed, glinting with a pale fire. “So what do you want?”

Tigerstar stepped forward, shouldering the gray warrior aside. “I am Tigerstar, the leader of ShadowClan,” he growled. “And I have a proposition for you.”

Scourge’s blue eyes glinted with contempt. “I don’t listen to arrogant twats.”

“You will have territory in the forest, more food than you could ever eat--”

“I know what you want. You want me to march in there with my cats, drive the other groups out of the forest. I know you will treat me like an underling. Unfortunately for you, I have very little desire to do such a thing, as some of us have… interests in the forest.”

Tigerstar’s claws unsheathed, and he bristled. “How  _ dare _ you?”

“Get out.” Scourge’s voice was colder than his ice-chip eyes as Tigerstar stalked away, his tail lashing.


	35. The Darkest Hour: I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emberdawn is stressed out, as usual. Also, StarClan exists and is kinda scary.

The vigil had been deathly quiet.

Emberdawn watched the waning moon high overhead with exhausted eyes, and blinked slowly, knowing how much she had to do. She had to get the Clan in order, appoint a deputy, organize patrols, check on the queens and kits, and still be at the Moonstone with Moonpaw by sunset. She had to appoint a deputy now, before moonhigh was over.

She looked at the three dead cats in the center of the clearing in the moonlight. Runningwind’s pelt was covered in fern leaves, hiding how he had been mauled. Brindleface was curled like she was sleeping, her eyes closed and face peaceful. Bluestar’s paws were stretched as if she was running, mouth slightly open in a pained snarl. 

The Clan had hardly bothered making her look peaceful. 

When Emberdawn had stumbled into camp, supported by two RiverClan cats that were carrying their leader’s corpse, the first thing she had seen in the faces of her Clanmates was relief. They weren’t surprised when Mistyfoot and Stonefur explained she was her mother-- Speckletail even went as far as to mutter about how she should have expected it--and the tension had eased around the RiverClan warriors. None snapped at them, but none went out of their way to make them comfortable for the vigil. 

As bad as it made her feel, not a single cat had forgotten what Bluestar did to ThunderClan. From refusing to name Swiftpaw and Mistlekit to giving Brightpaw the name  _ Lostface _ \-- not to mention that most of the Clan had known it was Bluestar that gave Emberdawn the wicked scars on her face for defying the order to be at war with  _ StarClan _ …

She had completely lost her mind, and that was what hurt the most. She wasn’t there anymore, not until her last moments, and she had done horrible things. 

On the flip side, there was no end to the mourners for Runningwind and Brindleface. Sugarpaw, Runningwind’s apprentice, and Sweetheart both crouched by Runningwind’s side, their identical faces ruined by grief. Cloudpaw, Fernpaw, Ashpaw, and Emberdawn herself were the closest to Brindleface besides the nursery queens, and they spent their vigil by the beautiful molly’s side, remembering their time with her and wondering what they would do without her. 

Finally, Emberdawn raised her head, and cleared her throat. The faces of her Clanmates turned to her, and she tried to smile, not quite making it seem whole. 

“Tonight, I will travel to the Moonstone, and I must appoint a deputy before then to watch over the Clan,” she mewed, trying to stay strong. After a moment, she clambered up onto the Highrock, looking over her Clan and turning her choice over in her mind. 

“I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice. Whitestorm will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.”

Appreciative mews broke out over her Clan, and she saw Willowpelt nudge her mate heartily before padding back into the nursery. Her sides were so swollen that she would likely be kitting any day now.

Whitestorm blinked up at her in shock, and then bowed his head. “I would be honored.”

She smiled back, and then looked up at the sky. “And I say this to my Clan; the false war against StarClan is over. Upon my return from the Moonstone, I will give all cats their names that they were denied.”

“What about her name?” Cloudpaw’s voice rose above the excited murmur, and Emberdawn’s eyes were drawn to Lostface, who was ducking her head in shame. He stared up at the not-quite-leader with defiance in his green eyes. “Nobody looks at her anymore, and they don’t want to say her name. Isn’t there a way to change it?”

“Of course there is,” Speckletail huffed in annoyance. “Halftail and One-eye, StarClan rest their souls, weren’t  _ born _ with those names. I’ll teach her the ceremony, don’t you worry your young head.”

“And I would be happy to give her the name she deserves,” Emberdawn murmured. She saw Lostface’s one blue eye sparkle with gratefulness. “Now, onto patrols. Whitestorm, can you handle hunting patrols while I figure out border patrols?”

“Of course,” he meowed, and lifted his tail as she jumped down. “Sandstorm, Fernpaw, and Ravenflight, head to Sunningrocks. Lostface, Cloudpaw, and I will be in Tallpines. Dustpelt, Ashpaw, and Cinderheart should be good to hunt near the Owltree, but at the first scent of dog, get your tails back to camp.”

Emberdawn stepped forward, scanning her Clanmates before she made her decision. “Brackenfur, Snowpaw, Sugarpaw, and Frostfur, I want you patrolling the ShadowClan border. Mousefur and Thornpaw should check Snakerocks for any more dogs, and if there aren’t any, follow a few minutes behind the first patrol. Sweetheart, Dark…” She stopped, then frowned deeply. “Has anyone seen Darkstripe?”

Then, she remembered. He hadn’t been present since before the attack.

Cinderheart glared at her paws. “I’ll go with Sweetheart. Darkstripe was talking to Brindleface about some scents near Snakerocks, claiming there was a pheasant. I remember because he told me he didn’t need my help to chase a fat bird. I hope he’s dead.”

Nodding in acceptance, rage boiling in her gut, Emberdawn meowed, “I will lead you and Sweetheart on the RiverClan patrol, escorting Stonefur and Mistyfoot.”

The sun was already rising by the time their discussions were over with, and the several patrols padded out of camp. Emberdawnwent from the Fourtrees border all the way to Tallpines, meowing goodbyes to the RiverClan warriors, and when nothing happened, she ended up hunting in the pine woods.

Her eye caught a ginger-and-white she-cat’s, and she smiled. 

“Hey, Brightpaw.”

Lostface beamed, apparently appreciative that her soon-to-be leader had ignored the crude name. “Hey, Emberdawn. I caught a mouse!”

“Nice job,” she praised easily. “How are you holding up?”

“Cloudpaw’s been helping me re-learn how to hunt and fight,” she replied. “It’s all really weird now, since I have to be really careful that I don’t completely miss.”

“Well, I think you can do it, just for the record.” Emberdawn smiled warmly, and Lostface returned it. She turned, beginning to stride home. “I better get to camp. Speckletail will claw my ears off if I don’t learn the proper ceremony for you.”

“Wait…”

Pausing, Emberdawn glanced over her shoulder at the one-eyed she-cat. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

_ It was so, so cold.  _

_ She pressed against Moonpaw, her limbs weak as she tried to stand. The ginger tom before her smiled comfortingly, and walked over to her, pressing on her other side and helping her walk. _

_ She blinked, and realized she stood in the center of a clearing. A massive tree stood in the center, reaching up, up, up beyond what she could see, into the pitch-dark sky. Five massive roots anchored it, yet one was withered and riddled with rot. On the healthy roots, cats sat, and they had an air of importance about them that none could deny. The ginger tom in front of her blinked fondly, and she recognized him with a jolt. _

_ “Da.” _

_ “Hey, little firecracker.” His green eyes sparkled, and he smirked slightly. “Been a while since I saw you last. Not even an apprentice yet, and here you are.” _

_ “Where… am I?” _

_ “The Tree of Fallen Stars.” His tail curled in apparent delight as he regarded it. “Every leader has come here to receive their lives, or so I’m told. Every leader who deserves it wakes up in its branches when they die.” _

_ “Who deserves it? So Brokentail isn’t here?” _

_ There was a hiss from nearby, and she jumped, spinning to see a tom with patchy fur and angry eyes. “Of course not! He wanders in the Place of No Stars for eternity, as he deserves!” _

_ “Calm down, Raggedstar,” Jake meowed placatingly. “She’s just curious.” _

_ Raggedstar hissed again and stalked away, and Emberdawn watched him warily, leaning against the apprentice heavily. Moonpaw, too, seemed antsy.  _

_ “How are you here, Da?” she asked quietly. “You weren’t a Clan cat.” _

_ “I believed in StarClan,” he meowed in reply. “Pine and Talltail… they told me about StarClan, told me impossible stories that had to be true. Pine died eight times over, you know that? He died eight times, and described every one to me. I don’t think I could deny that StarClan existed after that.” _

_ “Pine was a Clan cat?” _

_ “That he was… the leader before Sunstar, before Bluestar.” _

_ “Oh.” She let her eyes trail her father’s face as she inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. “What… what happened to me?” _

_ “StarClan stripped you of your life,” he mewed simply, and Moonpaw gasped in shock. “To receive your nine lives, you must stand before them with no life at all.” _

_ “That sucks,” she growled, hating how she could barely twitch her tail to show her displeasure.  _

_ She blinked, and saw other cats appearing, surrounding the three in a semicircle. Jake grinned. _

_ “This is where I need to take my leave, alright? Be nice to your half-brother.” _

_ “Half-brother?!” she cried in alarm, eyes going wide. “I have a half-brother?” _

_ “Of course you do,” he muttered, affronted. “About a year older than you, I think. Little black tom with a white paw. He looks a lot like you.” _

_ “You mean  _ Scourge _?!” _

_ But her father had already vanished, leaving a baffled Emberdawn and Moonpaw to face nine cats. _

_ The first to approach her was Redtail, who she had last seen in her early warrior days. His tortoiseshell fur gleamed with starlight now, and he blinked fondly at her. “Hey, Emberdawn. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” _

_ “Yeah,” she agreed tiredly. _

_ He leaned down a bit, and rested his chin on her head. His whiskers tickled her muzzle as he spoke. “With this life, I give you justice. Use it well to see the truth and give the proper punishments where it is due.” _

_ Pain ripped through her body. It felt like abandonment, it felt like betrayal, and for a moment, she was in a memory that was not her own.  _

**_“Yikes… Oakheart really did a number on me.” His voice came out in a dry croak, and he gritted his teeth in response to the pain, feeling the deep ache of the wounds on his throat. “I need to get to Spottedleaf.”_ **

**_His ears twitched as he heard rustling, and he scanned the undergrowth. Behind him, Tigerclaw spoke. “You won’t make it.”_ **

**What?** **_His eyes locked on a group of shadows, and he saw three apprentices. Dustpaw, who was watching with careful eyes; Ravenpaw, who was pressed close against his litter-brother and the other apprentice; and Emberpaw, who locked eyes with him. He saw them widen in shock, just as he said, “Tigerclaw--”_ **

**_Something slammed into him, and he was on the ground, gasping as claws dug into his throat, ripping into it._ **

**Help! Someone, help!** **_He thought desperately, and kept his eyes trained on the new apprentice. She had shrunk back, shaking violently in shock and terror, and as the life bled out of him, he could only pray Tigerclaw hadn’t seen them._ **

_ She gasped as she was pulled out of the memory, and though she now had the strength to stand on her own, she was shaking. The memory was just as awful the second time around, even from a different perspective. She looked at Redtail, her heart aching, and he gently licked her forehead before backing away. _

_ Replacing him was Lionheart. The big deputy swished his golden tail proudly as he looked at her. _

_ “Ah, I knew you had potential when Whitestorm and I dragged you to camp.” _

_ “Dragged me? I walked!” she mewed, indignant, and the golden tom laughed. He had to reach pretty far down to rest his chin on her head, but the fluff mingled with her own and she marveled at the feeling of being ensconced in warm, fluffy fur that wasn’t her own. Now she knew why Ravenflight liked burrowing into her side so much! She loved this! _

_ “With this life, I give you courage. Use it well when you’re afraid, and prove it won’t hinder you.” _

**_He glared at Longtail as he threw taunts, and leaned down to murmur in the kittypet’s ear. “That is Longtail. He smells your fear-- they_ ** **all** **_do. Prove to him and everyone else that your fear won’t hold you down.”_ **

**_He watched Belladonna stand, her tail lashing and amber eyes narrowing. She didn’t look very intimidating at all, but still, she stood and faced him._ **

**_As Longtail continued to jeer, he went on. “Will you back down from a challenge?”_ **

_ The life burned in her muscles like liquid fire, like venom in her mouth that she couldn’t spit out. It made her want to flex her claws and leap at the nearest enemy, wanting to shred them, but she held back, pinning her ears to her skull. _

_ A white she-cat stood in front of her, eyes glowing with compassion. She smiled gently, and Emberdawn blinked, seeing the black-and-white kit circling her ankles, looking up with hope in her eyes. Snowfur, she remembered. Bluestar’s sister.  _

_ “With this life, I give you loyalty,” she meowed, brushing her chin over Emberdawn’s head. “Use it well to remember who your friends and your foes are.” _

**_“This is all your fault!”_ **

**_Snowfur watched in utter horror as Thistleclaw lashed out, his claws raking Bluefur’s cheek. Bluefur cowered, her eyes dulled with grief, and yet Thistleclaw kept advancing._ **

**_“If it wasn’t for you, Snowfur wouldn’t be dead! I wish it was you! I wish the monster had killed you!”_ **

**_Bluefur’s voice was soft and utterly heartbroken as she replied. “I wish it was me, too.”_ **

**_The tom seemed to have no response for that, and Snowfur, despite being nothing more than a ghost, ran to her sister’s side. Thistleclaw stood over her, hate in his eyes, and Snowfur wondered how she’d missed it._ **

**_How she’d missed it all._ **

**_How she had brushed off Bluefur’s warnings about his violence, how she’d turned a blind eye to his cruelty._ **

**_How had she ever missed it?_ **

_ This life felt like betrayal, her heart shattering and twisting into something hard and diamond-like. It felt like the warmth of brushing muzzles with Sweetheart, it felt like the ice-coldness in her chest when she saw Graystripe and Silverstream together for the first time. It felt like not knowing if she should be loyal to her friends or to her Clan. _

_ Snowfur backed away, herding along Mosskit, and a familiar black-and-white tom replaced her. Runningwind grinned, half-awkward.  _

_ “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” she murmured, but he shook his head as he rested it on her own. _

_ “It wasn’t your fault. With this life, I give you compassion. Use it well to remember the aches outside of wounds, and support your Clanmates in every way you can.” _

**_“Sweetpaw, what’s wrong?”_ **

**_His apprentice blinked up at him, and then looked away. “Emberpaw’s keeping something from me, and I’m scared because she’s really scared of something. She thinks I don’t notice, but sometimes she, Ravenpaw, and Dustpaw sleep in shifts so that someone is guarding the entrance to the den. And she gets really bad nightmares sometimes and cries into Ravenpaw’s side and she doesn’t talk to me about it… I just want to help, but she hasn’t talked to me about it.”_ **

**_Runningwind frowned to himself. He wasn’t great with the whole ‘advice’ thing, but he could sure try. If it was bothering her so much that it made her reckless in training,then it was his duty to help._ **

**_“Do you remember the day Emberpaw and Dustpaw and Ravenpaw came back from the battle with RiverClan?”_ **

**_“Yeah?”_ **

**_“Battles… change cats. Seeing violence like that can warp the way you see things, and I wouldn’t doubt something like that so soon after she joined ThunderClan shook her. Redtail died in the battle, and she must have seen the mortal wound. She and the other two might find comfort in sleeping in shifts because they’re scared of seeing that in their sleep. It helps them. If she wants to talk to you, she will. Until then, you just have to support her.”_ **

**_Sweetpaw paused, and then smiled at him. “Thanks, Runningwind.”_ **

_ This life felt like the entirety of Highstones was collapsing, and she alone stood against it, the weight pressing down on her shoulders. She stumbled, and watched through slitted eyes as Runningwind backed away. Had her withdrawal affected Sweetheart so badly? Regret tore at her heart, but she had no time to think about that as a new face took his place. Swiftpaw. _

_ “You’re definitely giving me a cool name, right? Like Swiftwind or Swiftclaw!” _

_ “Definitely,” she agreed, and let the apprentice lay his chin on her head.  _

_ “With this life, I give you mentoring. Use it well when you are guiding the future of ThunderClan.” _

**_The forest had never been so uninviting. Swiftpaw pressed against Brightpaw, his fur prickling with fear._ **

**_“Are you sure about this?” Brightpaw asked, anxious._ **

**_“It’s just a dog,” he scoffed with more bravado than he felt. “When we chase the mange-pelt off, Bluestar will_ ** **have** **_to give us our warrior names! She’s put it off for way too long!”_ **

**_A growl sounded from nearby, and he nearly leapt out of his fur. Brightpaw whimpered, “What was that?”_ **

_ This life felt like stinging pelts and claws, like the glow of pride in her chest. It dredged up thoughts of whenever Cinderheart perfected a new batte move, when Emberdawn was covered in sand and shallow scratches and yet she was so proud.  _

_ Swiftpaw grinned sheepishly, and let an ancient gray molly take his place. _

_ “Hey, brat, kitty.” Yellowfang blinked at her apprentice fondly. “How’s Spottedleaf treatin’ ya? That soft molly can’t hold a candle to the way I teach.” _

_ “I’m right here!” Spottedleaf yowled, and shoved against Yellowfang. “You can go next, just for that comment!” Her eyes twinkled with mischief, though, and Yellowfang let her stand in front of Emberdawn with a shake of her head.  _

_ “Hi, Mama,” she greeted gently. “Has StarClan been kind since I last saw you?” _

_ “As always,” she purred in reply. “Medicine cats haven’t lost their purpose here, yet.” _

_ “Good.” _

_ Spottedleaf’s muzzle brushed her own before it rested between her ears. “With this life, I give you motherhood. Use it well to defend every kit as if they were your own.” _

**_Spottedleaf yanked the fern leaf into a knot roughly. “Do you do_ ** **nothing** **_except get hurt?” she demanded of the apprentice, hiding her own concern behind a wall of annoyance._ **

**_Emberpaw blinked up at her, abashed, and Spottedleaf growled, lashing her tail as she turned to Yellowfang._ **

**_“And_ ** **you** **_! What happened to you?!”_ **

**_“Brokenstar is an evil cat, Spottedleaf. He committed an unspeakable horror and blamed me for it when I got in his way.”_ **

**_She heard a whimper, and turned to look at Emberdaw, the concern flooding her again. Her claws flexed slightly, wanting to tear into Yellowfang for what she had done to this little apprentice Spottedleaf had come to adore, and sighed silently. “You might have torn your strained ligament,” she mewed gently, and watched Emberpaw’s eyes grow in fear. To Bluestar, she added, “If she recovers the full use of her leg, she will still limp for the rest of her life.”_ **

**_And she saw the dismay in Emberpaw’s eyes, and she leaned forward, wanting to give her a comforting lick. The poor apprentice’s journey never seemed to be an easy one._ **

_ This life felt like protectiveness, like vindictive glee as she tore into a pelt. It felt like when she leapt at Blackfoot as he tried to steal kits, it felt like shredding Brokentail’s pelt for taking Cinderheart and her littermates. _

_ She shook with the raw power of it, and Spottedleaf gently licked her ears before letting Yellowfang take her place. _

_ “With this life, I give you faith. Use it well in your darkest moments to always look for the stars.” _

**_Stillborn. They were stillborn. Two she-kits, their flanks cold and still. Yet one kit with a snapped tail gasped for air._ **

**_She couldn’t even comprehend her own grief as she pulled the little tomkit to her belly, wishing beyond anything that she could bring her daughters back to life. It hurt so badly…_ **

**_But this was her punishment, and it was what she deserved._ **

**_She looked out to the sky, to the stars far above, and knew that this wasn’t the end of her punishment yet._ **

**_But still, she groomed her little son, and closed her eyes, silently grieving._ **

_ This life was utterly unlike the others. The other lives had felt like heat or like claws or like weight, but she sobbed. This one felt like the moment life drained from Graystripe’s eyes, like the awe she felt before the Moonstone, like the heart-rending grief as she spoke to Redtail in her dreams. Her legs shook, and yet she still stood.  _

_ When she blinked away her tears, there stood Brindleface. Her gentle eyes helped her catch her breath, and she blinked, seeing her snapped neck on the underside of her eyelids. _

_ “Thank you for always being my friend,” she meowed hoarsely.  _

_ “I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything,” Brindleface replied, honesty shining through her face. “You and Sweetheart supported me after Redtail died, helped me see past my own grief and helped me raise Ashpaw and Fernpaw. You two will always be my friends.” _

_ Emberdawn gently slotted her head under Brindleface’s, burying herself in her friend’s scent.  _

_ “With this life, I give you empathy,” the molly meowed softly. “Use it well to lift your Clanmates up and understand what they feel.” _

**_“You just_ ** **wait** **_?”_ **

**_Emberdawn’s incredulous tone made her laugh, and she curled her tail. “Yeah. I sent the kits to play with Sandstorm. They’re half-siblings, you know? Redtail was her father.”_ **

**_That didn’t seem to comfort the molly at all, as she just seemed to get more anxious, looking at her writhing sister. Brindleface had seen and experienced this multiple times, and simply watched, curling her tail around Emberdawn. She was only the size of a four-moon-old kit, which made her the perfect size to cuddle. Not that she would ever say that out loud._ **

**_Yellowfang, Longtail, and Brindleface spoke for a moment, and Emberdawn shot her a wary look. “I thought the rule was queens and medicine cats only.”_ **

**_Slyly, the queen looked at her friend. “Well, the future queens have to learn to do it_ ** **somehow** **_.”_ **

**_“The future_ ** **what** **_?!”_ **

_ Empathy, she learned, felt like compassion, but instead of on her shoulders, it was in her heart, weighing down her chest and making her want to fall to her knees. Moonpaw pressed against her comfortingly, and Brindleface gently slapped her nose before joining Spottedleaf, speaking in low tones.  _

_ Finally, a gray tom approached her. His amber eyes were full of starlight, just like all the others, and they held joy to simply see her. He beamed. _

_ “Hiya, Emberdawn! Funny seeing you here!” _

_ “Graystripe,” she rasped weakly. His torn throat flashed in her mind’s eye, and the fluffy tom frowned. _

_ “Hey, none of that. I’m here now.” _

_ “Stormkit looks just like you, you know?” _

_ He smiled again, looking proud. “Yeah. Tell Silverstream I’ll wait for her up here, okay?” _

_ “I will,” she promised, and let him rest his chin on her head. _

_ “With this life, I give you love. Use it well to remember who you’re fighting to get back to at the end of the day.” _

**_Graystripe leaned forward, and brushed his muzzle against Silverstream’s._ **

**_“Are you sure Emberdawn will help us?” she asked quietly, sounding slightly afraid. “She’s been avoiding you, and she even said she didn’t want anything to do with us.”_ **

**_“She’ll help,” he mewed with certainty. Yes, it stung that she left him behind, but she’d given an ultimatum and he’d failed to meet it. But he knew she would never, ever leave him to suffer, no matter their disagreements. He leaned against her, twining their tails and basking in her scent, like the river at night. “I love you, Silverstream.”_ **

**_“I love you more.” Her purr made his heart swell, and he smiled into her thin fur._ **

_ This life was warm, flowing through her softly and whispering comfort. It was nameless, and yet she named it; it felt like the moments she shared with Ravenflight as they hunted together in Tallpines. It felt like giving Cloudpaw a badger ride when he was a kit. It felt like sitting vigil with Sweetheart, brushing pelts and sitting tall. It felt like love, pure and innocent. _

_ Graystripe headbutted her gently and backed away, and a massive tom leapt down from one of the roots, approaching the group. His regality made the other cats bow their heads, even Emberdawn and Moonpaw.  _

_ “I am Thunderstar, the first leader of ThunderClan,” he meowed, voice deep and almost royal. It was quickly ruined by an impish smile, but he continued. “Emberdawn, I hail you by your new name, Emberstar. Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and I grant you the leadership of ThunderClan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity.” _

_ “Emberstar! Emberstar! Emberstar!” _

_ The newly-crowned Emberstar stood before the cats of StarClan, her eyes shining as she felt her chest swell. She wasn’t as afraid of being leader anymore; instead, with all these cats she had failed looking at her with such pride and shouting her name, she felt like it was a new challenge, a challenge she was ready to take on. _

_ Moonpaw and Emberstar closed their eyes, but they didn’t wake up. Instead, a massive hill of bones grew from the ground as the clearing and the other cats vanished. Moonpaw yelped in fear, and Emberstar was shaking as she stared up at the top of the pile. _

_ Oakheart stared back, his face blank.  _

_ “Four will become two. Leopard and Tiger will meet in battle, and blood will soak the forest.” _

_ She heard distant crashes, and the bones exploded outwards, a river of blood being the force to shove them. Emberstar screamed, curling around Moonpaw-- _

And jolted awake, she and the apprentice panting in terror as they stood by the Moonstone alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where’s Bluestar?
> 
> Please comment and leave what you think! I worked for DAYS on this scene lmao.


	36. The Darkest Hour: II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emberstar drags herself through a bunch of ceremonies. The return of Scourge.

The first thing Emberstar did when she returned to camp was  _ sleep _ .

Really, it hadn’t been her choice. She was about to brute-force her way up to Highrock and call a Clan meeting, to give names to those who deserved them-- there were ceremonies to hold, fallen to honor, after all-- but Sandstorm, Ravenflight, and Sweetheart all banded together to force her to go to sleep. In her new den.

(It didn’t smell like Bluestar, oddly enough. She could only smell her friends when she pressed her nose into the bedding and all traces of ThunderClan’s once-great leader had vanished, replaced by the scents of her mate and lavender.)

Still, it was not a restful sleep, plagued by nightmares of the river of blood and the mountain of bones. In those visions, she would see over and over again Leopardstar tearing Graystripe’s throat open, feel Tigerstar’s teeth around her neck and remembering how terrifying it had been to play dead and pray he didn’t double-check. 

As soon as she woke, she went to one of the few places she knew peace; the nursery. 

Silverstream greeted her with a purr the moment she walked in, and the sound gently roused the other queens. Hattie was up on her paws first, walking up to Emberstar and gently nosing her.

“Goldenflower told me you were leaving to get nine lives.”

“Yes, I did,” she meowed back, reaching up to bat her ear carefully. “My name is Emberstar now.”

“That’s cool,” Hattie replied, her mew awed. “Do you think one day I’ll get a Clan name?”

Quickly, Emberstar glanced at the other queens. Willowpelt was stirring slowly, her odd blue eyes half-lidded. Speckletail was curled tightly around Snowkit, watching Emberstar warily. Goldenflower blinked slowly at the pair, and inclined her head a bit, and Silverstream just curled her tail in silent approval.

“I think you will,” she agreed at last. “After your kits are old enough to be apprenticed, you would have to be trained like any other apprentice, but I think you should receive an honorary name anyway. You are a queen, and you are welcomed here. I think the Clan would have an easier time accepting you if you had a true Clan name.”

“Thank you,” Hattie purred.

Next, Emberstar checked on Willowpelt. “How are you doing?”

The pale queen grunted, and then muttered, “Feel like I’ll pop any day now. As much as I love Moonpaw, she’s a dear, just make sure the queens are present? She’s never delivered kits before.”

“I’ll pass it along,” she agreed. “Goldenflower, what about you?”

“The kits get more and more anxious every day to be apprenticed.”

“And you promised to tell us about our Da!” Tawnykit added, sticking her head up and looking rather indignant. 

“I will, I will. Speckletail, how is Snowkit doing? He’ll be apprenticed with Bramblekit and Tawnykit, and I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“He’s… going to be apprenticed?” The old queen lifted her head, clearly surprised. “Bluestar said he would be moved in with the elders.”

“Bluestar is dead,” she replied bluntly. “I noticed you have a bunch of signals for him, are there any warriors who know them well enough to communicate regularly?”

There was a long silence as Speckletail considered. “Brackenfur, he learned after… after Mistlekit was taken away. All of the queens here know them. Sweetheart knows a few.”

She hummed to herself, thinking. Then, “Silverstream, Featherkit and Stormkit will be apprenticed today. I can have someone give you a crash course on ThunderClan hunting and fighting. You already know most of our traditions by now. If you are ready by then, I’d like you to mentor Snowkit.”

“Me?” Silverstream blinked in surprise. “I’d be honored to.”

“Good. We’re short on warriors, these days.”

After that, there was left the horrible task of telling Goldenflower’s kits about their father. 

She took them to a quiet corner of the nursery. They were both taller than her now, but she still curled her tail around them like they were itty-bitty, and began to speak quietly.

At first, she spoke of the good things. She told the kits about his prowess in battle, about his wicked claws and how he never backed down from a fight. “His ambition got the better of him,” she meowed at last.

“What do you mean?” Bramblekit asked quietly. 

“He wanted to be leader. Many cats do, but he was… he was determined to be leader someday.”

Tawnykit saw how her eyes misted over as she began to follow the trail of her memories, chasing the shadows of her past. The five-moon-old molly pressed her flank against Emberstar’s, not caring how odd the image was. A kit comforting their leader.

“It was my first day as an apprentice of ThunderClan. Spottedleaf, who had been the medicine cat at the time, told me that if I didn’t strain myself, I could go on patrol. And… we encountered RiverClan on Sunningrocks.

“It was probably the most terrifying thing I’d experienced. I had run all the way back to camp, utterly lost and just following the scent of cats, and I got Lionheart… another cat you will never meet. He went to get a patrol, and I ran back to Sunningrocks.

“There was… this horrible grinding sound. It still makes me wake up in a panic, some nights. The rocks were sliding and began to fall. I barely warned Oakheart and Redtail in time to get out of the way. Oakheart was almost crushed when the rocks fell… he was RiverClan’s deputy back then. Redtail was ours. 

“I had been in shock, so Ravenflight and Dustpelt took me aside so we could all calm down. Tigerclaw and Redtail chased off RiverClan, and the other ThunderClan warriors had left for camp, but they were still there.

“We were hidden in the underbrush when your father murdered Redtail.”

The two kits fell utterly silent, and Emberstar tried to push on.

“He’s done a lot of bad things since then. He had Lionheart killed by rogues so he would be made deputy, and tried to kill both me and Bluestar so that no one would be in his way of being leader. We chased him out… and he was the one who brought the dogs.”

The story finished, she licked both of the kits’ heads, trying to shake away the memories. 

“But while I'm the leader, I won’t hold you responsible for that. You two are just kits, and even though your father did terrible things, you are innocent. Now… now I have to call a Clan meeting, okay? And I’m sorry that the stories I had weren’t happier.”

Silently, she slipped out of the nursery and made her way to the top of Highrock. She had many ceremonies to do, and only so much daylight.

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

Almost as one, ThunderClan’s cats melted from the shadows, beginning to gather in the center of the clearing. Many faces held wary hope, others resignation.

When all of her Clanmates had gathered, she began.

“Last night, I journeyed with Moonpaw to the Moonstone and received my nine lives and my name.”

“Emberstar! Emberstar! Emberstar!” The calls of her Clanmates were much more optimistic than those of her fallen friends, and she smiled to herself. They had faith in her. 

“I need to start this meeting with grim news; I suspect that Darkstripe was the one to help Tigerstar set the trap with the dogs, as he had disappeared before then and not shown up since. If any cat sees him, treat him as a rogue and bring him here for questioning. Until then, consider him an exile.

“On a different note, I must give names to our Clanmates who have fallen before they received them, so that they may rest in StarClan eternally.”

Speckletail lifted her head, as did Longtail. Mistlekit and Swiftpaw were the only two obvious, but she also had to name someone else.

“Spirits of StarClan,” she began, “you have accepted almost every cat into your fold. Now, allow us to give names to the fallen not among your ranks, and we pray you will accept them as you do all other warriors. Mosskit, daughter of Bluestar; Swiftpaw, apprentice of Longtail; Mistlekit, daughter of Speckletail. These three cats were not granted the names that they so deserved, and I name them now. Mosskit, daughter of Bluestar, shall be known from this moment forward as Mossheart, for her steadfast kindness. Swiftpaw, apprentice of Longtail, shall be known from this moment forward as Swifthunter, for his sense of adventure and his courage. Mistlekit, daughter of Speckletail, shall be known from this moment forward as Mistlespirit, for her boundless energy. Spirits of StarClan, take these cats and give them the peace they deserve.”

She would never admit that her eyes stung as she spoke, looking at the horizon in which the moon was beginning to rise and the stars beginning to shine. But she looked down, and saw the faces of her friends. Lostface was crying into Thornpaw’s shoulder, and Longtail didn’t look far from it himself. Speckletail was gesturing to Snowkit, and then the kit burst into tears as she finished, practically throwing himself into his mother’s chest. 

If she closed her eyes, she could just barely feel a pelt brush hers, and a voice softly saying, “I knew you’d give me a cool name.”

“Lostface, step forward.”

The ginger-and-white she-cat jerked in surprise, and padded forth, her ears flattened slightly. 

Emberstar smiled at the warrior. “Spirits of StarClan, you know every cat by name. I ask you now to take away the name from the cat you see before you, for it no longer stands for what she is.”

The Clan murmured in excitement as the nameless molly began to straighten, standing tall as her single blue eye shone.

“By my authority as Clan leader, and with the approval of our warrior ancestors, I give this cat a new name. From this moment on she will be known as Brightheart, for her spirit and kindness will always make her beautiful despite her scars.”

Brightheart looked like she was going to cry, and as the chants of her name began, she backed up and joined Cloudpaw, who was shouting her name the loudest. 

“Thornpaw, step forward.” As the golden-brown tom practically leapt into the center, she continued, “Mousefur, has Thornpaw completed his training to a satisfactory degree?”

“As if he  _ hasn’t _ !” the dusky she-cat yowled, causing a few purrs to break out.

“I know, it’s just a formality.” More purrs. “I, Emberstar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn. Thornpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do!” 

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name.” She jumped down, in front of the apprentice, her eyes shining with pride. “Thornpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Thornclaw. StarClan honors your patience and skill, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

“Thornclaw! Thornclaw! Thornclaw!”

She rested her chin on his head, with the warrior having to awkwardly duck down so she could reach (perks of being tiny… not) and licked her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry you weren’t made a warrior sooner,” she murmured, “but I hope I can see you be the greatest warrior in ThunderClan soon.”

Finally, she broke away and climbed back up to the Highrock, and called forth Cloudpaw, Fernpaw, and Sugarpaw.

“The three of you are left without mentors,” she meowed, losing all traces of joy at the mention. “Fernpaw, your mentor will be Longtail.”

Longtail audibly yelped, and Sweetheart nudged him heartily so that he would stumble into the center, looking at the gray-speckled she-cat. 

“Longtail, following Swifthunter’s death you were left without an apprentice. You trained him well, and I expect you to pass on the knowledge you shared with him to Fernpaw until she finishes her apprenticeship.”

A long silence fell, and then they pressed their noses together. Ashpaw cheered from his place beside Dustpelt, and the tom cuffed him for the interruption. Emberstar purred to herself in amusement before falling solemn again.

“Cloudpaw, your mentor will be Whitestorm.” As her deputy stepped forward, blinking in surprise, she went on. “Whitestorm, you mentored Sandstorm, and now she is a talented huntress. I expect you to pass this skill and all others onto Cloudpaw until he finishes his apprenticeship.”

They touched noses cautiously, and Emberstar paused, watching her nephew and deputy in silence. Cloudpaw had grown so much from the bratty apprentice who got kidnapped by Twolegs. Now, he stood tall and spoke loud, but not out of arrogance-- out of protectiveness.

“Sugarpaw, your mentor will be Sandstorm. Sandstorm, you mentored Brackenfur, and he is a fine warrior. I expect you to pass down all you know to Sugarpaw until she finishes her apprenticeship.”

The pale ginger molly readily touched her nose to Sugarpaw’s, and the new leader regarded them with a quiet solemnity. Runningwind had mentored Sweetheart, and if one were to pay attention they could see how Runningwind adored both of them. His loss was a bitter one.

“Hattie, step forth.” As the former kittypet stepped up, Emberstar considered her next words. “Hattie, you joined our Clan in search of sanctuary for your kits. Is it your desire to stay with ThunderClan after they are weaned, when they no longer need you around?”

“It is,” she confirmed.

“Then I give you your Clan name. Hattie, from this moment forward you will be known as Sunpaw. You will be given a mentor after your kits have been weaned, and when you have completed training you will be given your warrior name.”

“Thank you, Emberstar.”

Her name was called out gladly, first by the queens but quickly taken up by the apprentices and then the warriors. Sunpaw stood in the middle of it all, smiling widely. 

“Featherkit, Stormkit, come forward.”

Sunpaw backed away, allowing the two into the center, and Emberstar breathed a sigh of relief; hopefully this would be the last ceremony for a while. 

“Stormkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Stormpaw. Your mentor will be Cinderheart.”

The gray she-cat gasped audibly as she hurried up, her eyes wide with shock. Emberstar purred at her former apprentice. 

“Cinderheart, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You were trained by myself, and you have shown yourself to be energetic and loyal. You will be the mentor of Stormpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to him.”

Her tail curled as she watched Cinderheart touch noses with the new apprentice. In a small corner of her mind, she felt a bit smug;  _ now she gets to feel how I did mentoring her! _

“Featherkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Featherpaw. Your mentor will be Ravenflight.”

As her mate padded up, shy but proud, Emberstar checked Featherpaw’s reaction. The silver apprentice seemed pleased with the choice, from the way her whiskers twitched and her lips curled into a smile. 

“Ravenflight, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You are an excellent warrior, and you have shown yourself to be thoughtful and skilled. You will be the mentor of Featherpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to her.”

_ Finally _ , she thought as she leapt down from Highrock,  _ it’s over. _

“When will Tawnykit, Bramblekit, and Snowkit be apprenticed?” Whitestorm asked.

_ Fuck. _

Emberstar was on her way to Twolegplace with Sweetheart and Silverstream in tow.

The two she-cats chattered aimlessly as she led them through the alleys, sparing a few wary glances around the area. 

At last, Emberstar came upon a run-down building and scented the air. There ! Scourge’s scent was fresh, and she slipped in.

Blue eyes flashed in the darkness, and the small tom stood bolt upright. “Who’s there?”

“Just me, Scourge. I have my litter-sister and my best friend. We’re here to talk.”

“Emberdawn?” Scourge slowly crept from the corner he had been crouched in, his black tail lashing. “It’s been a while.”

“Emberstar, now,” she replied tiredly, and sat down, launching into the long explanation of how she came to be leader. 

At the end of it, Sweetheart leaned forward. “You’re Scourge, then? I’m Sweetheart, Emberstar’s sister.”

“Silverstream,” the other she-cat offered, dipping her head slightly. “Emberstar, if I may…?”

“You don’t need my permission to ask questions,” she sighed, having already been over this with half of her Clanmates already. “I was your friend first.”

“Right.” Sheepishly, Silverstream asked, “Why are we talking to a rogue about Clan matters?”

“Scourge is my ally and my half-brother.”

Almost immediately, Scourge coughed. “I’m your  _ what _ ?”

“My father’s name was Jake,” she replied patiently. “He was a ginger tom with green eyes and more mates than he had legs.”

Sweetheart snorted. “Oh, StarClan, I really should have expected to have kin somewhere. You’re Quincey’s son, right?”

Scourge stared at the two with wide eyes, blinking slowly. “Yes…?”

“Nice to meet you. We’re Nutmeg’s daughters-- she had us a year or so after you were born, if Jake was right.”

“He’s alive?”

“No, he’s dead,” Emberstar disagreed. “Killed by a monster when we were a few moons old.”

“Not that this isn’t a touching family reunion,” Sweetheart cut in with a twitch of her ears, “but that doesn’t explain the whole  _ ally _ bit.”

“Oh. I met him when I led the patrol to find Cloudpaw. He helped us out in exchange for some information about Tigerstar. We’ve met once after that, when Sunpaw was in need of someone to care for her. We have a mutual hatred for Tigerstar.”

“Speaking of the bastard,” Scourge growled, his eyes narrowing, “Bone has pretty much driven me here. Killed my new seconds, Slash and Rip, in an ambush with at least five other cats, and nearly got me. It’s pretty safe to say I’ve been dethroned.”

“Not entirely.”

Violet and a cream molly came from the darkness on the other side, and Scourge blinked at them in surprise. “Vanilla, Violet. Why are you here?”

“Oh, you know, usual kittypet stuff like running away,” Violet meowed breezily. “I might be terrified of Bone, but I also know that he’s a pretty awful leader compared to yourself, Scourge.”

“And I’m just looking for an adventure,” the cream she-cat, apparently Vanilla, agreed. “Bone thinks I’m cool, he’s set me up as his second. But I’m here to offer my services.”

“Like what?” Scourge snapped back, moving to stand beside Emberstar. “You can’t kill me without an entire group of forest cats ripping you to shreds.”

“Tigerstar treats us like carrion and Bone isn’t much better.” Vanilla’s tone was blunt and factual. “Things were better when you led us. So I’m offering to be your insider. Gather up some cats that hate Bone and Tigerstar, stage a revolution, the works.”

“That’s awfully convenient,” Sweetheart butted in, unblinking. “How do we know you can be trusted?”

“You don’t” was her cheerful reply, and then the pair of she-cats disappeared out again, like they had never been there in the first place.

Silence ruled the abandoned den.

“You aren’t safe here,” Emberstar meowed at last. “I found you pretty quickly, and I don’t even live here.”

“Where can I go? To some housefolk?” His cold eyes narrowed.

“With us.” She hadn’t really  _ planned _ on it, but apparently this was how it was gonna go. “At least until things settle with your cats. I can at least offer shelter as long as you help out.”

He sighed, deep and tired, and Emberstar grinned, knowing she’d won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY I LEGIT FORGOT I DIDNT POST THIS CHAPTER
> 
> PLS LEAVE COMMENTS THO THEY FUEL ME


	37. The Darkest Hour: III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emberstar rescues some RiverClan cats with a former member of said Clan and a former alley rogue.

“That scent is RiverClan,” Emberstar explained to her half-brother as they patrolled along Sunningrocks. “They’re constantly trying to take Sunningrocks, because apparently many seasons ago they were RiverClan hunting grounds.”

“That’s stupid of them,” he growled with a lash of his tail. Silverstream, who had accompanied them, shot him a disapproving glare.

“ThunderClan and RiverClan have had a rivalry for as long as any living cat can remember. To just roll over and stop trying to take what was once theirs, RiverClan would be weak.”

Scourge looked odd without his collar. On the first day he arrived at camp, Emberstar had taken it off for him, and he had hung it outside the tunnel as a warning to possible invaders. However, he seemed content without the tooth-studded collar pressed against his throat. “I’m just saying-- why waste so much time and energy over something nobody remembers needing? RiverClan eats fish, right? So why do they want Sunningrocks, which is not only on the wrong side of the river as them, but also useless?”

“Pride,” the mollies chorused, and then something foul-scenting caught Emberstar’s attention. She gagged, and shook her head rapidly. “What in the name of StarClan is  _ that _ ?”

“Smells like carrion,” Scourge noted, and Silverstream’s ears flicked back against her head. 

“I lived in RiverClan for  _ seasons _ . I was born and raised and apprenticed there. And I will swear upon  _ StarClan _ that I’ve never scented  _ anything _ like that.”

She sniffed again, and curled her lip. “Smells like ShadowClan. Is Tigerstar attacking them?”

“I don’t know,” the formerly RiverClan molly admitted, and then climbed up on top of one of the rocks and sniffed the air, her eyes sliding shut as she focused on whatever scents floated from the other side of the water. “Blood and sickness… Something’s going on with RiverClan. Something bad.”

_ As much as I hate RiverClan, _ Emberstar thought as she lashed her tail,  _ something bad is going down.  _ “We should probably get a patrol,” she meowed hesitantly. “Let’s head back to camp--”

“What’s up, Ember?”

Cinderheart’s pleased chirp broke into Emberstar’s thoughts, and she glanced over her shoulder at her former apprentice. “Oh, Cinder. Where’s the rest of your patrol? You went hunting, right?”

“We’re right here!” Stormpaw stomped up dramatically, his amber eyes twinkling with delight as he saw Silverstream. “Hi, Mama!”

“Mama?!” Featherpaw streaked up, Ravenflight following anxiously behind. “Hey! Hi! I caught a robin!”

“Good job,” the silver tabby praised, then glanced over at Emberstar.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. Despite being leader now, and having been deputy for  _ moons  _ before, she still felt strange giving orders. “Can you four keep spread out over Sunningrocks? Silverstream scented something wrong over in RiverClan territory, and we’re going over to check if everything’s okay.”

“You’re taking Scourge with you?” Ravenflight looked at his mate’s half-brother with wary purple eyes, his white-tipped tail flicking. Scourge had spent his nights in the stump prisoners typically slept in, and was outwardly hostile to anyone and everyone that spoke to him. Unfortunately, that included Ravenflight, despite Emberstar’s multiple reassurances that he was a good warrior.

(She was ninety-eight percent certain that he had threatened to disembowel Ravenflight if he hurt her feelings. Despite it not even being a week since their strange family reunion, he took his “duties” as Emberstar and Sweetheart’s older brother very seriously.)

“He’s experienced in fighting,” she meowed. “Silverstream knows RiverClan territory the best, and I can negotiate well enough.”

“Fair,” Cinderheart agreed, herding her apprentice onto a rock to keep watch. “We’ll be here, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With that, the trio turned and crossed the stepping-stones.

Almost immediately, Emberstar was hit with the scents that Silverstream had described: blood, sickness,  _ suffering _ . Death.

She ducked into a clump of reeds, Scourge close behind, and Silverstream took point, her ears angled forwards.

From hiding place to hiding place they moved, pressed close to the ground and on high alert, until finally, Silverstream stopped them.

“Don’t move,” she breathed.

The three remained frozen for many heartbeats, and Emberstar heard someone speaking.

Someone terrifyingly familiar. 

“Half-Clan cats have split loyalties, and they must be tested! Disloyalty is rampant in lesser Clans, and we will not stand for it!”

She peeked around Silverstream, and her breath caught. 

Tigerstar sat upon a pile of skeletons. It reeked of carrion, and her eyes were wide as she trailed along the sun-bleached bones of prey. Her body shuddered in revulsion as Tigerstar shifted and a fish skeleton cracked in two under his paws. 

The scent of misery drifted from a gaping hole below the mound, and from it, Blackfoot emerged, dragging along a blue-gray tom.

“Stonefur,” she hissed. Scourge’s eyes flashed as he took in the scene. He likely had no idea who Stonefur was, but Emberstar’s voice was laden with dread, and his fur bristled protectively.

“Who is he?”

“One of Bluestar’s kits,” she murmured in reply, her fur prickling. “He and Mistyfoot are half-Clan warriors, but they didn’t know until a few moons ago. They were raised in RiverClan by their father, Oakheart.”

“He’s my friend,” Silverstream added with a heavy voice. “Oh, StarClan, no…”

The once-proud warrior stood shakily before a group made up of both ShadowClan and RiverClan cats. His fur was thin and pathy, ears cut up and oozing pus. His eyes were watery, his tail no more than a bloody stump. 

“He’s a prisoner,” she breathed. 

Horror flooded her pelt as other cats were dragged and herded from the hole, and Silverstream named Mistyfoot in a small voice. The warrior’s blue-gray pelt was covered in blood and scratches, and half of her left ear was completely torn off, but she, unlike her brother, still had her tail intact. Behind her, three apprentices huddled, their eyes wide with terror. 

With a jolt, she recognized two of the apprentice-- the black tom and the dark gray tom were the two kits she and Sandstorm had pulled from the river! Mistyfoot’s kits!

That meant… Tigerstar was herding all of the cats with  _ any _ non-RiverClan blood in their veins.

Mistyfoot looked over to Leopardstar, who was jumping up onto the bone pile with little difficulty, sitting beside Tigerstar like she had always belonged there. It made Emberstar shudder in revulsion.

“We’ve been loyal warriors our entire lives! How  _ could _ you, Leopardstar!?”

“Be silent,” the RiverClan leader ordered, her eyes narrowing. “Stonefur, to prove your loyalty, you will kill one of these half-Clan cats.”

“ _ What _ ?!” His mangy pelt spiked in fear, and he looked over at his sister and her kits. “No! I would never do that!”

“Then so be it.” Tigerstar flicked his ear, and a nearly-black tom advanced on the molly.

_ Darkstripe! _

The traitor hissed in glee, his claws catching the daylight as he swatted at one of the toms. 

Mistyfoot snarled loudly, and in a heartbeat, she was upon him. Despite being half-starved and wounded, her claws ripped into his pelt easily. Darkstripe screeched in pain and fear, trying to wriggle away, but the mother of the three cowering apprentices ripped into him without hesitation. 

By the time she was forced away from him, Darkstripe was wailing in agony. He was dragged off to the side, straight to a pained-looking Mudfur. The medicine cat glared at Darkstripe, and then at Tigerstar, before hesitantly beginning to dress his wounds. 

Blackfoot lumbered forward, his eyes glittering, and pinned Stonefur down. With a swipe of his paw, the poor tom’s throat was wide open, gushing crimson on the already blood-soaked grass. 

Mistyfoot wailed, and the apprentices were shouting, but they were forced back, back into their dirty hole.

“Meeting adjourned,” Tigerstar said.

It could have been minutes or hours by the time most of the cats had dispersed. Silverstream was crying silently, looking at the spot where Stonefur had been carelessly thrown in the river, like he was carrion and not a loyal warrior. 

“Scourge, go roll in that mud,” she meowed heavily. “Only Blackclaw is guarding the… prison. He won’t recognize you. Tell him you’re taking over the guar duty and whatever else you need to do. We’re staging a rescue.”

He nodded blankly, slipping out of the reeds and approaching Blackclaw.

They seemed to argue for a few moments before Scourge unsheathed his claws, and Blackclaw loudly muttered, “You Twolegplace cats and your freaky teeth fascination… fine! I’ll go see what Tigerstar wants.” With that, he left.

Silverstream streaked towards the hole, disappearing into the darkness. Only moments later, she reemerged with Mistyfoot and the three apprentices in tow.

_ This will be hard to explain to the Clan, _ she thought heavily.  _ I need to stop bringing outsiders in…  _

Scourge had not led a happy kithood.

His first memories were of watching his littermates, Socks and Ruby, play together and refuse to let him join in. He was a runt, after all. He was just itty-bitty weakling Tiny, who couldn’t get his head out of the clouds. Who couldn’t get adopted.

_ “Do you know what happens to unwanted kittens? They get thrown in the river!” _

… his littermates had been cruel. 

He was scared. So he had slipped through a gap in the fence and run into the forest.

It had been  _ wonderful _ . The scents of life all around him, everything was massive and dark and mysterious and he wanted to find every secret the trees were hiding. He had stood on a stump and looked into the shadows, and he had felt more powerful than he had in his entire life. Like he had never been the runt of the litter who had to fight just to get his mother’s milk. 

And then Tigerpaw had attacked. 

One moment, he was drinking in the sights and sounds of the forest, and the next, he was pinned to the ground by his throat, gasping for breath and trying to struggle away as Thistleclaw, Tigerpaw’s apparent mentor, ordered him to keep attacking.

_ That’s right, Tigerpaw. Show that kittypet his place. _

And by the time Bluefur had arrived, forcing Tigerpaw to back away, he was bleeding and wailing and turned tail to run back home.

Except he was lost. 

He felt so cold, even though it was summer. 

He tried to use an old dog’s tooth to get his collar off, and instead it stuck there, taunting him. Other cats backed away in fear, believing that he had  _ killed _ a dog to get the tooth.

As the months went by, he became colder and colder. More teeth studded his collar. He was Scourge, not  _ Tiny _ , and he was powerful. Feared.

When the cold froze his heart, he welcomed it.

And then, out of nowhere, Emberdawn had arrived. Looking for that brat of a forest cat that had gotten stuck in a garden. She had no patience for the games he liked to play, and flipped the rules so that they were on equal footing. She had glared at him, tiny and powerful, and he’d felt a kinship with her.

And so the ice began to melt.

With the ice, his power slipped away. Tigerstar and Bone lured away his most loyal cats until he had barely any power left, and then he was powerless. And Emberstar had arrived again, chasing away the last of the cold as she told him they were kin. 

So here he was, sitting in the leader’s demand watching the RiverClan rescues set up in the tree stump he had been sleeping in. Emberstar had practically forced him to join her in her den, since it was “too big for one cat, anyway” and “you don’t like sleeping anywhere near the warrior’s den, so what’s the big deal?”

Socks and Ruby had been older than him, but they treated him like mud. So the moment he reentered camp and Sweetheart, his other half-sister, began introducing him to her kits, he felt a surge of protectiveness. These two mollies had clearly relied on each other, because they had no other kin to rely upon. In only a few days, he saw how Sweetheart would stand protectively over Emberstar whenever topics like Bluestar-- the previous leader-- were brought up. He saw how Emberstar would put aside her duties to listen to her sister talk about the most inane things. 

And he had felt a pang of longing, at first. He could have had that with Socks or Ruby. Maybe both.

Then he had sworn he would never be like either of them. He would never threaten to throw them in a river, he would never brush them off or refuse to listen to their complaints. 

Instead, he decided right then and there as he watched his sisters lean against each other in the morning sunlight that he would be the best older brother he could be.

And that started with threatening their mates, obviously.

Longtail had taken to his threats like a fish to water. “Emberstar threatened to kill me when Sweetheart told her she was pregnant with her first litter. You should have seen her. She’s this tiny warrior who gets told she’s about to be an aunt, and then Sweetheart has to restrain her to keep her from ripping my throat out. Nothing gets more terrifying, in my opinion.”

Ravenflight decidedly did  _ not _ . He ended up huddled in the back of the den, his violet eyes huge, and nodding rapidly. Scourge had no doubt Ravenflight had told his mate right away, but Emberstar had seemed more amused than offended by it. 

“How are you holding up?” Speaking of Emberstar…

“I’d like to think well, but I don’t really know how Clans work.”

The fire-eyed molly grinned awkwardly, and beckoned him with a flick of her tail. She led him into the center of the camp, and looked around. “It’s about time I gave you a proper tour. I run things a lot differently than Bluestar did, but I think I’m handling it okay. For the most part, at least. That’s the nursery,” she meowed, gesturing to a den to the left of the leader’s den. “Then the stump den, where you were staying, and the medicine den.”

“You have an entire den for your healers?”

“Well, also for the sick and wounded. They can’t exactly be kept with the rest of the warriors!” Her tail curled, and then she pointed out the next den. “Apprentices, and on the other side of the tunnel in the elder’s den. Next to the elder’s den is the warrior’s, and then that’s basically it.”

“You mentioned that six-moon-old kits are made apprentices?”

“Yeah-- oh, StarClan, that’s right!” She turned and bolted for Highrock, leaping and scrabbling up to the peak. “All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

Cats seemed to come from nowhere to cluster around Scourge, and he subtly edged away from them, trying to keep his eyes on his half-sister. She scanned the crowd once, and nodded to herself.

“Snowkit, Bramblekit, and Tawnykit, step forward.” As she spoke, she made odd gestures along with it. They were halting, but a white tom next to Scourge gasped in delight and scrambled forwards. His ears were sticking straight up, but he didn’t seem to be hearing any of the murmurs around him. Deaf, then. 

“Snowkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Snowpaw. Your mentor will be Silverstream.”

The silver she-cat he and Emberstar had gone to RiverClan with jumped up, padding towards the deaf apprentice with shining eyes. 

“Silverstream, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You were trained well in the traditions of ThunderClan and you have shown yourself to be thoughtful and hardworking. You will be the mentor of Snowpaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to him.”

She touched her nose to Snowpaw’s, and Scourge blinked, getting the feeling that it was a ceremonial thing to do so. Then, he vaguely wondered,  _ wasn’t there already a Snowpaw? One of Sweetheart’s kits? _

He glanced over at the Snowpaw in question. He was the spitting image of his father, except for the white chest and paws, and he seemed to be laughing to himself. Probably finding it funny that he shared his name with the new apprentice.

“Bramblekit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Bramblepaw. Your mentor will be Thornclaw.”

A golden-brown tabby tom slunk forward, his til waving in greeting to Bramblepaw. Scourge’s claws prickled-- Bramblepaw was unfortunate enough to be Tigerstar’s son. It must have been difficult to find a good mentor for him. 

“Thornclaw, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You were trained excellently by Mousefur, and you have shown yourself to be loyal and patient. You will be the mentor of Bramblepaw, and I expect you to pass down all you know to him.” They touched noses gently, and Emberstar moved right along. “Tawnykit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Tawnypaw. I will mentor you myself.”

The tawny apprentice gaped as Emberstar leapt down to greet her. 

“Tawnypaw, I swear I will pass down all I know to you.”

It was Tawnypaw that practically shoved her nose in Emberstar’s face, which the leader purred in response to and met with equal vigor. The Clan began cheering, and Scourge awkwardly threw in his own cheers. Was chanting the apprentice’s names normal? It sounded like it was normal for them.

_ Clan cats are so weird. _


	38. The Darkest Hour: IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gathering sucks. Also, the prophecy comes true in more ways than one.

Emberstar’s tail twitched nervously as she led ThunderClan into the clearing. The moon sat high overhead, its silver light spilling over the WindClan cats already waiting, and turned paler coats into ethereally glowing hues.

Taking a shuddering breath, the young molly padded to the Great Rock,staring at the niches in the stone her ancestors had leedt. 

_ Not my ancestors, _ a dark voice in the back of her mind whispered.  _ The ancestors you pretend to have. _

“You walk with starlight in your pelt.” A quiet mew caught Emberstar’s attention, and she glanced over at Barkface. “Welcome, Emberstar.”

“Thank you.” Her reply was rough with gratitude, glad that at least one cat already knew of her status. Moonpaw trotted up not a moment later, greeting her in a loud meow and drawing shocked whispers from several WindClan cats before sitting down and bothering Mudfur about RiverClan herbs.

Finally, she scaled the Great Rock and settled next to Tallstar.

“Bluestar is dead, then?”

“Drowned,” Emberstar replied shortly. “Whitestorm is my deputy.”

“A fine choice,” the WindClan leader agreed, and then hushed as Tigerstar and Leopardstar entered the clearing. The atmosphere became cold, and most of the ThunderClan cats hissed, lashing their tails and barking curses as Tigerstar passed them by. He lifted his head high, ignoring them completely, and leapt up onto the Great Rock. 

Leopardstar settled with the deputies, and a cold feeling gripped Emberstar’s chest. 

“What have you  _ done _ ?” she hissed, and the horrible tom smirked in reply. Before he could stand and address the Gathering-- she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction-- she herself stood, and all four Clans fell into a hush. 

_ Good to know I still have some respect in ShadowClan, but RiverClan too? That’s surprising, most of them hate me. _

“As most of you will have heard, a pack of wild dogs attacked ThunderClan. Because of them, we lost the apprentice Swifthunter as well as the warrior Runningwind, and Brindleface was likely murdered by the traitor Darkstripe to give them a taste for cat-blood. Bluestar died defending ThunderClan and killing the leader of the pack, and the surviving dogs were likely to have scattered. Any Clans scenting dogs on their territory, be warned: these are not normal dogs, and they are vicious. They will kill and eat cats, so be sure to send your best warriors to chase them out. I received my nine lives and my name from StarClan, and I address you now as Emberstar.”

A quiet murmur of respect passed through the gathered Clans, and she nodded slightly to herself before sitting, letting Tallstar take the lead.

“We in WindClan welcome Emberstar with warmth, and hope her leadership will be long and honorable. We have scented dogs, although they left our territory after a few days. Prey is running well, and we have nothing else to report.”

Finally, all eyes grudgingly turned to Tigerstar, and he seemed to preen under the attention for a moment. At last, he stood, tail raised high.

“Leopardstar has allowed me to speak for our Clan-- we have joined together to make TigerClan.”

Shocked silence followed the declaration. Emberstar reeled back as if she had been struck, and in the corner of her eye she saw Tallstar’s ears flick back and his eyes widen.

“We are going to extend the offer for you to join us. Any Clan who does not join us my sunset tomorrow will be considered at war with TigerClan and will be destroyed.”

“Shove a rat in it.”

Ah, her tendency to speak before her mind catches up with the situation will get her killed someday. Probably today. Tigerstar whipped his head around to glare at her.

“What do you think is gonna happen with your precious ‘TigerClan’, hmn?” Oh, she was so dead. “You’re treating Leopardstar like your deputy, and no sane leader would lower themselves like that and dishonor StarClan in such a way. StarClan gave us the right to lead, gave us our nine lives and our name-- you disrespect them by proposing Tallstar and I bow to you.”

He hissed. “How dare you--”

“She’s right.” Tallstar’s growl interrupted the would-be tyrant. “Leopardstar, you allowed this to happen to RiverClan?”

Leopardstar snarled back, her fur bristling, and Emberstar sneered back, deciding her death would be worth it. 

“You two are murderers and tyrants. I would rather die before I follow you.”

Something flashed in Leopardstar’s gaze-- was it regret, guilt? She couldn’t tell, but it wasn’t anger. She looked away, tail dropping and curling around her ankle, and Emberstar leapt down, brushing past the former RiverClan leader and beckoning Moonpaw away from the other medicine cats. 

“ThunderClan, to me!”

She paced in her den, erratic and frightened. Battle plans and contingencies raced through her mind, and Whitestorm was trying to get her to calm down for a moment as the other cats she had called filtered into the den.

Scourge, Sunpaw, Sweetheart, and Sandstorm-- she took a moment to be amused at the alliteration-- all waited for her to speak. 

Finally, she sat, regarding the strange council she had called.

“Sweetheart, I want you to take the queens and elders into Twolegplace and guard them.”

“What?” Her sister immediately began to protest, green eyes flashing indignantly. “I can fight! I’m one of the best warriors in the Clan, Whitestorm said it himself!”

“Exactly. Sunpaw can lead you all through Twolegplace, but it’s unknown territory for the Clans. If… if things go wrong and we can’t make it back, then you are all that is left of ThunderClan. You need to protect them.”

After a beat of silence, Sweetheart nodded, and Emberstar rounded on Sandstorm.

“We’ve never gotten along properly, but I trust you. I need you to lead a secondary group of warriors to join the battle when the first wave is being overwhelmed. And Scourge, I need you by my side. You know the alley rogues the best, and you aren’t afraid to get your claws bloody. Whitestorm, I need you helping me to lead the first wave. Relay to everyone in your groups that it is kill or be killed-- if ripping their throats out is the only way to stop them from attacking, then that’s how it’ll be.”

Another round of nods, and the anxiety roiling in Emberstar’s gut rose to fever pitch as she exited the den with her companions, watching them rally warriors and apprentices alike.

At last, she rose her voice above the din.

“Apprentices, you are to defend the medicine cats. Tigerstar is a bastard who has no problem with killing innocents, and Moonpaw is the only medicine cat ThunderClan has. Fernpaw, Ashpaw, consider this your warrior assessment.”

“We won’t let you down!” Ashpaw yowled in return, and the other apprentices cheered loudly.

“What do you want us to do?”

Mistyfoot had jumped up beside her, head bowed slightly as she peered up at Emberstar. She felt a pang of pity for the she-cat. She’d already lost her brother to Tigerstar’s tyranny, and yet she still wanted to jump headfirst into battle. 

“I need you and your kits to try and target RiverClan cats who you were friends with, try and drag them aside to convince them to help us.”

Her blue eyes shone, and she nodded once. “I won’t let you down.”

“And… if you return to RiverClan, when this is all over,” she added thoughtfully, “I won’t hold it against you. RiverClan is your home.”

“Thank you.”

Leopardstar stood behind Tigerstar in the clearing of Fourtrees, glaring hatefully at a black-and-white tom with a tooth-studded collar.  _ Bone _ , Emberstar thought to herself as she padded up to greet Tallstar.

Deadfoot was alerted to her presence first, and nodded to her. “I would say it’s good to see you, if it were any better circumstances.”

“And you,” she nodded, and Tallstar looked over with tired eyes, blinking.

“Ah. You came. And with your entire Clan.”

“Minus elders, queens, and kits,” she agreed softly. “Sent them to Twolegplace with strict orders to not return unless one of our Clan finds them and brings them back home. My litter-sister is the lone warrior there, to protect them as best as she can.”

“We left our young and old with the barn cat, Barley. He was happy to give them shelter.”

“But the queens?”

“Those that weren’t pregnant decided to come along, if only to protect their kits.”

“That is very honorable of them.”

Tigerstar prowled forwards, his eyes shining with glee. “Have you made your decision?”

In return, Emberstar curled her lip. “I’ve decided that it’ll feel nice ripping your throat open.”

“And WindClan will not be driven from our homeland again.”

Emberstar’s eyes scanned the ranks of warriors, and she spotted Vanilla. Her eyes were focused on her, and winked once before gesturing with her tail to the cats behind her. 

It wasn’t a small group, either.

_ Those must be the usurpers. _

_ “Four will become two. Leopard and Tiger will meet in battle, and blood will soak the forest.” _

In a moment of bold stupidity, she opened her jaw and yowled, “LeopardClan,  _ attack _ !”

All hell broke loose.

The first wave of Emberstar’s warriors surged forward, and Tallstar barked orders to his own. Leopardstar was screeching in surprise as none other than Mistyfoot tackled her, and Vanilla (plus her group of usurpers) started attacking the other alley rogues. 

Scourge was by her side in moments, and she immediately lunged for Blackfoot, who was trying (and failing) to slip past her and attack the apprentices, and, by extension, Moonpaw and Barkface.

Emberstar wrestled the white tom down with some difficulty, since she seemed even smaller against his massive bulk, but Scourge backed her up like they had been born to fight together. His fox-tooth claws raked Blackfoot’s hips, dragging him down and pinning his tail while Emberstar clawed the ShadowClan tom’s face viciously. 

It was fast and brutal, and the tom screamed, wriggling away and escaping into the undergrowth. Emberstar hissed after him, already turning to attack a gray-and-white rogue she-cat. 

And so it went, with Scourge and Emberstar taking down and driving off more cats than she cared to count as her shoulder screamed and yet she still limped through the battlefield in search of her quarry. 

A scream sounded behind her, and she turned just in time to see Whitestorm being thrown into the Great Rock like he was a moss ball, his blood smearing the stone as his skull smacked against it.

Almost immediately, her vision flushed crimson.

The culprit was Bone, and he was approaching a terrified Moonpaw with malice in his eyes. He raised a paw, and Emberstar cursed, panic flooding her pelt because  _ she isn’t going to be fast enough-- _

Fernpaw slammed into the leader of the rogues, screaming and hissing as she ripped into his pelt. Bone grunted in surprise, and soon her littermate joined her, leaping onto Bone’s shoulders with a war cry. Not even seconds later, the others caught on, and Bone disappeared beneath a screaming mass of apprentices.

She looked at Whitestorm, saw his bloodstained fur and his glassy eyes.

“He’s dead, Emberstar,” Scourge said with unusual gentleness, even as he swiped out and tore open the throat of a rogue. 

The words made her vision tunnel, and she zeroed in on a certain she-cat.

“Sandstorm!”

The pale ginger molly jumped in surprise before joining Emberstar, the rest of the second wave erupting behind her from the undergrowth. She ducked around a RiverClan she-cat and stood by her leader, eyes focused. “What’s wrong?”

“Whitestorm is dead! You’re deputy now!” It was rushed, but Sandstorm nodded after a moment of shocked silence, and Emberstar leapt back into the thick of battle. 

Finally, she found who she was looking for. 

Tigerstar and Leopardstar were snarling at each other, Leopardstar’s short fur on end. 

“I’m not your deputy, I am a leader! You don’t control me, Tigerstar!”

“You agreed to this!”

“I’ve changed my mind!”

Emberstar started forward, Scourge hissing in unbridled glee behind her, and then pulled up short.

Leopardstar’s teeth sunk deep into Tigerstar’s throat, and with a jerk of her head, the golden leader tore it from the rest of his body. She felt bile rise in her throat, and Tigerstar’s eyes went wide with shock for a moment before he fell, pelt going still.

Mistyfoot padded up, brushing pelts with Leopardstar before slamming a paw on Tigerstar’s spine. The  _ crack _ of snapping bones was audible and undeniable, and she raised her head, yowling above the screams:

“ _ Tigerstar is dead! _ ”

Almost at once, the battle halted. Eyes began to turn, and an answering yowl came from the edge of the clearing.

“Bone is no more!”

Snowpaw’s voice was a bit awkward, and he always spoke a bit too loud, but that worked in his favor this time. His white muzzle was stained crimson as he stood on the massive rogue’s corpse, as if to prove that he was indeed dead. The other apprentices surrounded him, their eyes and teeth flashing menacingly. 

The remaining ‘loyal’ rogues began to wail, fleeing from Fourtrees, and Vanilla’s usurpers began to recess to the edge of the clearing. 

There was still a smattering of fight left in a few cats, but many had either given up or turned on TigerClan, helping herd them up or restrain them.

After what seemed like hours, Fourtrees was absolutely silent. 

Leopardstar at last raised her bloodstained head, and announced, “As leader of TigerClan, I am dissolving it.”

A great cheer came up, and Emberstar laughed to herself softly, repeating the declaration for the impromptu LeopardClan. Tallstar shot her a grateful look.

“What is going to happen to ShadowClan?” a dark red molly asked, a group of ShadowClan cats murmuring in agreement behind her. “Blackfoot was basically Tigerstar’s pet. We still have some sick cats, but we would drive him out if he tried to assume leadership.”

“There will be a sign from StarClan,” Fleetwhisker, who had emerged from the undergrowth, promised. “Don’t worry, Russetfur. We’ll get through this as we always have.”

“ThunderClan, in the wake of Whitestorm’s death--” shocked mews rose from her Clan as Emberstar spoke, but she pushed on-- “I have decided that Sandstorm will be our deputy.”

Tallstar looked around at his Clanmates with sad eyes, and meowed, “We should bury our dead here, to remind ourselves of the tyrant that nearly tore the Clans apart. We must learn from this.”

Russetfur nodded in agreement. “You’re a wise cat, Tallstar.”

Emberstar broke away, counting out her Clanmates. 

“Frostfur didn’t make it,” Goldenflower meowed softly. “Moonpaw put her body in some ferns for now.”

“Alright. Can you… can you get some cats to gather the bodies? I’m going to go check on the apprentices.”

“Of course.”

As soon as Emberstar approached Moonpaw, she heard the dark apprentice begging. 

“Please don’t go. Please, please, please. Please don’t die.”

Her paws moved faster, and she shoved through the bushes to see Barkface trying to comfort Moonpaw.

Emberstar’s heart dropped as she saw who the dying cat was.

Blood stained her brown tabby fur, and she was clawing weakly at the dirt. Her mouth was open, leaking blood, and Emberstar heard the bubbling that meant she couldn’t breathe past it. 

Blood pooled around her, soaking the forest floor, and Emberstar’s breath stuttered, almost stopping in her dread.

And at last, her paws went still, and Moonpaw wailed. 

“Oh, Sugarpaw.” The words came unbidden from her, sounding more like a sob then a statement. “What in StarClan’s name am I going to tell Sweetheart?”

“Spirits of StarClan, you have accepted almost every cat into your fold. Now, allow us to give names to the fallen not among your ranks, and we pray you will accept them as you do all other warriors. Sugarpaw, apprentice of Sandstorm…” her breath caught, and she saw the wretched grief in her sister’s green eyes. “... from this moment on shall be known as Sugarclaw, for her endless fighting spirit that she dedicated to her Clan.”

Sweetheart sobbed openly, and Longtail curled around her, his own eyes downcast. Snowpaw, Moonpaw, and Cloudpaw clustered together in silent mourning.

As the grief faded for a moment, she took a deep breath. She had thought long and hard about her decision, and she was ready to go through with it.

“Fernpaw, Ashpaw, Cloudpaw, and Snowpaw, step forward.”

The four apprentices stumbled forward with wide eyes, and Emberstar smile ruefully as she asked the mentors if they were ready. 

They were, of course. But she spoke for Cloudpaw anyway, in place of Whitestorm. 

He would have wanted his apprentice to get his name, even in his absence. 

“I, Emberstar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn. Fernpaw, Ashpaw, Cloudpaw, Snowpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”

“I do,” they chorused.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names.” Leaping down, Emberstar continued. “Fernpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Ferncloud. StarClan honors your kindness and dedication, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

She rested her chin on Ferncloud’s head, and recalled her leader ceremony when nine cats had done this to her. “I’m certain Brindleface is proud of you, from where she is watching you in StarClan.”

“Thank you.” Her voice came out thick, and licked Emberstar’s shoulder.

As she drew away, she faced the son of Brindleface. “Ashpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Ashfur. StarClan honors your energy and strength, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

This time, she mewed, “Look forward, and keep your chin up. You’re already a fine warrior, and the entire Clan is proud of you.

“Cloudpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Cloudtail. StarClan honors your enthusiasm and loyalty, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

He licked her shoulder, and she smiled. “I’m glad you’ve matured so much, Cloudtail. Someday, I think you’ll make the world change.”

“Thanks,” he mewed softly. Then, “Do you think Sugarclaw is watching us?”

“Of course she is.”

He backed away and bowed his head, taking her word for it, but she saw his green eyes sparkle.

Snowpaw (the first, son of Longtail and Sweetheart,  _ StarClan why was this so confusing? _ ) looked at her with wary yet hopeful eyes. “Snowpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Snowstep. StarClan honors your courage and perseverance, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan.”

As the four new warriors were welcomed by the Clan, Emberstar looked up at the stars, and somehow knew it wasn’t over yet.

She still had so many questions, after all. How did Tigerstar just  _ die _ ? Didn’t he have nine lives? Why didn’t Bluestar show up for her nine lives? Who would lead ShadowClan now? 

And when she closed her eyes that night, she opened them back up and  _ found herself standing in a field with Sandstorm and Moonpaw, who looked equally confused. A pale gray tom stood in front of them, his pelt nearly see-through, and his tail twitched nervously.  _

_ “My name is Cloudstar, the former leader of SkyClan,” he meowed, a slight tremor in his voice, “and I need your help.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I hated BloodClan. They’re alley cats who take on a Clan name despite not being a Clan at all. The idea was okay, though— a group of cats in Twolegplace with a set of morals. Vanilla’s revolution was based on the idea that Bone did not follow those morals at all.
> 
> The prophecy is twofold. “Four will become two” was literally the only part of it that was straightforward— four Clans became two for like an hour before splitting up again. “Leopard and Tiger will meet in battle” means both LeopardClan and TigerClan as well as the two leaders of TigerClan. “Blood will soak the forest” is literal and figurative. Sugarpaw’s death fulfilled it twofold: she was bleeding everywhere (soaking the forest) as well as her being Emberstar’s kin, her ‘blood’.
> 
> That’s all for The Prophecies Begin, guys! I’m gonna take a break for a week or two before I write the new “Firestar’s Quest” (it won’t have the same name, “quest” won’t even be in the title) and then launch myself into arc two, aka the arc that started okay but ended up sucking.
> 
> As always, please leave comments!


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